GARDEN 


JUSTUS 

MILES 

FORMAN 


LIBRARY 

UNIVi.ir.iTY  OF 

CALi        ::JIA 

SAN     l  EGO 


1 


presented  to  ihe 

LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  •  SAN  DIEGO 

by 
FRIENDS  OF  THE  LIBRARY 

Mrs.    Edwin  W.   Meise 

donor 


The   Garden   of  Lies 


KLKANOH    OF    XOVODIXA. 


By 
Justus  Miles   Forman 

Author  of  "Cupid's  House  Party,"  etc. 

With  a  Frontispiece  by  William  James  Hurlbut 


New   York 

Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 
Publishers 


COPYRIGHT,  1902, 
BY  FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY. 

Published,  September,  1902. 


To  F.   W.  F. 

This  tale  of  a  brave  and  faithful  gentleman 

is  dedicated  to  the  faithfulest  gentleman 

I  have  ever  known. 


The   Garden   of  Lies 


CHAPTEK  I 

TO  maintain  that  a  man's  character  is  de 
termined  for  good  or  ill  by  the  circum 
stances  chance  throws  in  his  way,  by 
the  gay  or  sorry  tricks  fate  plays  him,  has  ever 
seemed  to  me  a  folly.  Yet  so  von  Altdorf  main 
tained  most  strenuously  as  we  sat,  last  evening  and 
late  into  the  night,  on  the  terrasse  of  one  of  those 
thronged  and  gayly  lighted  cafes  along  the  old 
Boulevard  St.  Michel — "La  Source"  it  was — and 
talked  of  the  great  game  that  we  had  tried  to  play, 
long  since,  and  of  how  the  game  was  taken  out  of 
our  hands  by  greater  hands  and  played  to  so  strange 
an  end. 

"  Else  why,"  demanded  von  Altdorf  pursuing  his 
argument,  "  why  did  Denis  Mallory  happen  into 
the  Cafe  d'Alencon  on  that  particular  evening  of  all 
evenings  ?  Why  did  he  not  pass  by  and — end  his 
days  in  the  grave  of  a  drunkard  and  blackguard  ? 
How  else  did  he  grow  into  a  nobility  and  greatness 
that  shamed  us  all,  but  by  force  of  the  circumstances 


2        THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

into  which  he  fell  in  those  following  weeks  ?  An 
swer  me  that." 

"  He  was  led,"  said  I  firmly,  "  into  the  cafe,  that 
night,  by  something  greater  than  chance,  my 
friend,  something  beyond  our  philosophy.  And  he 
was  given  us  to  do  our  work  by  no  mere  happening. 
Moreover,  if  circumstances  make  a  man,  why  then 
didn't  Denis  Mallory  prove,  later  on,  a  greater 
blackguard  than  one  likes  to  think — later,  when 
circumstances  made  it  possible  for  him  and  chance 
made  it  easy  ?  Answer  me  that." 

But  von  Altdorf  shook  his  grey  head  and  frowned 
out  into  the  bustle  and  hurry  of  the  Boulevard 
where  the  fiacres  dashed  up  and  down  loaded  with 
students  and  cocottes,  and  a  steam  tram  panted 
noisily  up  the  hill. 

It  was  the  first  time  we  had  met  since  those  days 
two  years  ago — two  years  did  I  say  ?  By  my  faith 
it  seems  but  two  weeks.  I  can  see  their  faces,  hear 
their  voices,  those  players  of  a  great  game,  Mr. 
Mallory's  and  Sir  Gavin's  and  von  Altdorf's  and 
the  Prince's,  and  perhaps  more  vividly,  more  inti 
mately  than  all,  the  face  and  voice  of  the  unhappy 
lady  whose  fate  had  seemed  to  lie  in  our  hands. 

It  was  our  first  meeting  and  we  had  much  to  say 
to  each  other.  Von  Altdorf  had  come  on  to  Paris 
from  Vienna  on  a  private  mission  of  the  Emperor 
whom  he  now  serves,  and  I  had  run  across  from 
London  to  meet  him. 

It  pleased  our  whim,  once  dinner  was  over,  to 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES        3 

cross  the  river  to  the  old  quarter  again,  to  revisit 
the  gay  Boulevard  with  its  trees  and  its  cafes  and 
its  throngs  of  grotesquely  garbed  students.  It 
changes  little  as  time  goes. 

It  was  good  to  see  him,  to  clasp  his  hand  once 
more,  to  talk  long  and  fully  of  those  matters  that 
neither  of  us  may  ever  forget,  but  I  am  not  al 
together  sure  that  I  am  glad  we  met.  There  was  a 
difference,  a  certain  something  of  restraint,  a  failure 
to  see  things  quite  from  the  same  view-point.  Yon 
Altdorf's  mind  was  full  of  his  present  business,  of 
the  secrets  and  policies  of  the  Court  of  Vienna. 
The  present  and  the  future  pressed  insistently  upon 
him,  and  he  turned  with  a  certain  effort,  a  stiffness, 
to  look  backward. 

As  for  me,  why  I  suppose  I  was  most  keenly  oc 
cupied  with  my  own  little  affairs  and  my  own 
future.  The  two  years  had  carried  us  apart,  filmed 
the  windows  of  memory,  deadened  ever  so  slightly 
the  keenness  of  those  passions  that  once  were  all 
our  life. 

And  so  it  has  occurred  to  me  since  I  bade  fare 
well  to  von  Altdorf  and  saw  him  off  again  to  his 
work  in  the  East,  to  set  down  as  faithfully  as  I 
may,  while  yet  my  memory  is  fresh  and  strong,  the 
story  of  the  man  who  won  our  love  and  admiration 
against  such  odds,  and  beside  whom  all  other  men 
seem  to  me  dwarfed  and  petty. 

There  can  be  no  harm  in  writing  of  these  matters 
now.  Denis  Mallory  is  very  far  away  beyond  the 


4        THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

stir  and  murmur  of  this  western  world  of  ours,  and 
She  is  far  away  too.  MacKenzie  is  back  in  London. 
He  has  an  office  in  Harley  Street  where  you  may 
consult  him  at  certain  hours — for  a  certain  number 
of  guineas.  I  see  him  now  and  then  but  we  never 
talk  of  Paris.  Von  Altdorf  is,  as  I  have  said, 
busied  in  Vienna,  and  the  Prince  is  with  his  fathers 
— God  rest  his  soul ! 

To  no  one  beyond  these  few  could  the  telling  of 
my  tale  be  of  consequence.  The  things  that  stirred 
us  all  so  deeply  never  reached  the  great  public, 
though  heaven  knows  they  came  near  enough  to 
reaching  it.  The  very  realm  over  which  we  plotted 
and  schemed  and  fought  has  been  quietly  erased 
from  the  map  of  Europe  by  that  swift  and  noiseless 
hand  outstretched  from  the  white  throne  in  the 
North,  which  will,  some  day,  as  quietly,  erase  the 
names  of  all  the  remaining  little  states  that  we  call 
the  Balkans  and  of  whose  inner  history  we  know 
so  little. 

But  let  me  come  to  my  tale  without  further 
parley,  save  in  the  matter  of  this.  In  what  I  shall 
tell  there  must  be,  perforce,  much  which  I  did  not 
personally  see  or  hear.  Such  things  I  have  gained 
in  part  from  those  others  who  knew  directly  of 
them,  partly  from  my  knowledge  of  what  such  a 
one  would  do  or  say  when  so  placed.  I  must  put 
myself  in  the  position  of  the  writer  of  fanciful  tales, 
who  pretends  to  see  what  is  in  the  minds  and  hearts 
of  the  puppets  his  hand  dangles.  All  this  for  a 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES        5 

greater  smoothness  in  the  telling  and  a  wider  scope 
of  view  to  him.  who  reads. 


I  mind  that  I  had  been  dining  that  spring  even 
ing  over  on  the  proper  side  of  the  river  in  the 
Avenue  Kleber,  and  that  it  was  somewhere  near 
eleven  o'clock  when  my  fiacre,  homeward  bound, 
rolled  smoothly  up  the  long  straight  reach  of  the 
rue  de  Kennes. 

I  have  said  that  it  was  spring.  There  was  a  soft 
warm  little  breeze  that  bore  down  the  street  and 
pressed  against  my  face.  There  were  odours  abroad, 
the  night  was  full  of  them,  the  scent  of  green 
things  waking  to  life,  of  the  little  sticky  chestnut 
buds  that  were  just  pushing  out  from  branch  and 
twig — they  would  be  great  cones  of  fragrant 
blossoms  in  a  fortnight;  of  starting  leaves  and 
quickened  sod ;  and  everywhere  the  heavy  fragrance 
of  lilacs  newly  in  flower.  It  stirred  the  blood,  sent 
it  mounting  like  wine  to  one's  head,  set  one's  heart 
to  jumping,  filled  one  with  a  vague  unrest. 

"  The  world 's  too  tame,"  said  I,  taking  a  long 
breath  and  throwing  out  my  arms.  "  There 's  no 
romance  left  in  it — not  even  here  in  romantic  Paris. 
Who  could  be  romantic  in  an  opera  hat  and  a  dress 
coat  ?  One  needs  silk  breeches  and  shoe-buckles 
and  a  wig  and  a  sword."  I  raised  my  stick  and  re 
garded  it  with  disfavour.  "  Fancy  carrying  about 
a  silly  little  bit  of  wood  like  that ! "  said  I  morosely. 


6        THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"What's  the  good  of  it?  It's  not  even  orna 
mental,  and  I  've  no  impediment  in  my  gait. — .Ro 
mance  is  dead.  I  'd  like  to  fight  a  duel  or — or  over 
throw  a  kingdom  or  run  off  with  somebody's 
beautiful  bride  who  had  fallen  in  love  with  me  at 
sight,  but  I  can't,  just  because  it's  the  nineteenth 
century  and  because  this  thing 's  a  stick  and  not  a 
sword."  And  I  shook  the  cane  again  disgustedly. 

"  It 's  not  fair,"  I  complained  to  the  night  at 
large.  "  It 's  not  fair  to  stir  up  a  chap  so,  to  put  the 
spring  in  his  blood — all  those  lilacs  and — and 
things,  if  you  're  not  going  to  give  him  some  little 
outlet.  Jove,  what  air  !  It 's  atmospheric  poetry. 

"  Cocher  !  "  said  I.    The  cocher  pulled  up. 

"  Je  m'  ennui  de  ce  monde  ci,  Cocher,"  I  ex 
plained. 

"  There 's  nothing  of  romantic  in  it — except  me. 
There  is  nothing  of — poetical,  of — of  je  ne  sais 
quoi.  Can  you  take  me  somewhere  where  I  can 
find  romance  ?  " 

The  cocher  smiled  affably  and  made  a  beautiful 
gesture  with  both  hands  and  his  two  eyes,  a  gesture 
that  seemed  to  say,  "  But  find  Monsieur  a  romance  ? 
nom  d'un  chien  !  It  is  of  an  unbelievable  easiness. 
Leave  everything  to  me."  He  was  a  funny  little 
man,  pot-bellied,  red  of  nose  and  scanty  grey  of 
hair.  He  had  no  teeth  to  speak  of. 

"  Monsieur  would  be  thinking  of  the  Boulevard 
St.  Michel  ?  "  he  suggested  with  confidence. 

"  No,"  said  I  firmly,  "  Monsieur  would  be  thinking 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES        7 

of  no  such  thing.  The  Boul'  Miche'  is  not  in  the 
least  romantic,  and  you  know  it.  It 's  only  absurd 
and  squalid  and  mercenary.  Romantic  ?  Great 
Heaven !  Here,  set  me  down  at  a  cafe,  any  old 
cafe,  the  d'Alenpon.  I  tell  you  there's  no  more 
romance  ici  bas." 

I  got  down  sadly  at  the  Cafe  d'Alen9on  in  the 
Place  de  Rennes.  The  dial  high  over  the  big 
fapade  of  the  Gare  Montparnasse  said  eleven  fif 
teen.  The  terrasse  of  the  cafe,  brilliant  under  its 
sputtering  lights,  was  nearly  full,  and  M.  Thuriet, 
fat,  smiling,  comfortable,  beamed  a  presiding  deity 
from  the  background.  He  said  that  M.  Living 
stone  and  M.  Rogers  had  been  in  earlier,  and  had 
gone,  but  that  there  were  deux  ou  trois  Anglais 
still  within ;  for  example  the  grand  Monsieur  who 
had  come  with  Monsieur  hier  soir,  Mac-Mac — 
quelque  chose. 

"  Ah,"  said  I,  "  MacKenzie !  Sir  Gavin  Mac 
Kenzie."  But  certainly,  M.  MacKenzie,  together 
with  another  etranger,  non,  pas  Anglais,  Italien 
peut  £tre,  Autrichien,  one  would  have  a  certain  dif 
ficulty  in  saying. 

I  went  inside,  made  my  bow  to  Madame  the 
Dame  du  Comptoir,  exalted  upon  her  throne,  and 
looked  about  the  room. 

There  were  few  at  the  little  tables,  nearly  every 
one  had  chosen  the  soft  scented  air  outside  under 
the  awning,  but  Sir  Gavin  was  sitting  over  in  the 
far  corner  behind  a  glass  of  whiskey  and  water. 


8        THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

No  French  concoctions  for  MacKenzie.  And  with 
him  was  the  other  Stranger,  Italien  peut  6tre, 
Autrichien,  one  would  have  a  certain  difficulty  in 
saying. 

"  No,  not  Italian,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  Austrian, 
possibly.  Yes,  one  would  have  a  certain  difficulty 
in  saying.  He  would  be  about  forty,  from  appear 
ances,  though  his  head  and  MacKenzie's  were  of  an 
equal  greyness,  and  MacKenzie  was  a  good  fifty  or 
more.  But  the  other  man's  skin  looked  younger 
than  his  hair  would  warrant.  There  were  none  of 
the  creases  that  age  furrows  in  the  neck,  under  the 
ears,  or  across  the  forehead  or  in  the  cheeks.  To 
be  sure  his  face  was  lined  strongly,  but  with  vicis 
situde,  one  would  say,  not  years.  He  had  great 
dark  eyes  under  extraordinarily  bushy  and  promi 
nent  brows,  and  the  skin  under  and  about  them 
was  dark.  He  had  a  jutting  nose  strong  and  hawk 
like,  and  a  mouth  that  shut  to  a  firm  hard  line  over 
a  jaw  which  said  danger.  His  cheeks  were  lean, 
hollowed  a  bit  under  the  bone,  and  across  one  there 
was  a  sabre  scar.  He  wore  a  small  grizzled  mous 
tache,  and  his  hair,  grey  as  I  have  said,  was  scant 
above  the  temples.  He  would  not  be  above  medium 
height  but  he  had  a  most  singular  breadth  of 
shoulders.  He  made  a  curious  contrast  to  Mac 
Kenzie's  square  Scotch  bulk  and  professional  closely 
cropped  mutton  chop  whisker. 

I  hesitated  a  moment  over  joining  the  two  in 
their  corner,  but  turned  away  with  a  little  laugh 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES        9 

upon  receiving  from  Sir  Gavin  a  curt  and  most  un- 
genial  nod. 

"MacKenzie's  something  on  his  mind,"  said  I, 
settling  myself  at  a  table.  "He's  most  unusually 

glum,  and  so  is  the  other  chap Oh  anything 

— I  do  n't  care  what — Grand  Marnier,  I  think,"  to 
the  waiter. 

I  saw  MacKenzie  speak  to  his  companion  who 
turned  and  favoured  me  with  the  keenest  glance  of 
scrutiny  I  remember  ever  to  have  received. 

"  Oh  I  'm  quite  harmless,  my  friend,"  said  I  over 
my  little  glass  of  Grand  Marnier,  "  I  would  n't  hurt 
a  cat  and  I  've  committed  no  crimes  that  I  can  re 
call  at  the  moment." 

The  two  conferred  an  instant,  heads  together, 
and  then  MacKenzie  raised  a  beckoning  finger.  I 
told  the  waiter  to  bring  over  my  glass  and  crossed 
to  the  corner. 

"  Creighton,"  said  the  Scotsman,  "  allow  me  to 
present  you  to  Colonel  von  Altdorf." 

The  Colonel  rose  and  made  a  ceremonious  little 
bow,  heels  together.  I  tried  to  look  as  impressive. 
Then,  when  we  were  seated,  no  one  seemed  inclined 
to  say  anything.  The  settled  gloom  upon  the  faces 
of  MacKenzie  and  Colonel  von  Altdorf  remained 
unlightened — indeed,  if  anything,  it  seemed  to  grow 
more  deep. 

"  Beautiful  evening,"  said  I  firmly,  after  a  silence 
that  bade  fair  to  last  the  night  out. 

"  Yes,  yes — shockin',"  said  Mackenzie  absently, 


10      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  But  it 's  all  wasted,"  I  grieved  with  a  sigh. 
"  What 's  the  good  of  spring-time  coming,  anyhow  ? 
Nobody  cares  any  more.  It  just  stirs  your  blood  up 
a  bit,  but  you  do  n't  do  anything.  I  was  thinking, 
on  my  way  up  just  now,  that  spring's  a  mere  ex 
asperation.  Nobody  wants  it.  There's  no  more 
romance  in  the  world." 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  Oh,  is  n't  there  ?  "  said  he. 

I  looked  from  his  face  to  MacKenzie's.  There 
had  been  a  certain  significance  in  the  tone. 

MacKenzie  clinked  the  bit  of  ice  in  his  long  glass, 
and  frowned  down  upon  it  thoughtfully.  Then  he 
drew  a  long  breath,  and  met  my  eyes. 

"  Creighton,"  said  he,  smiling  a  little,  "  you  did 
me  a  good  turn  once " 

"  Ah,"  said  I,  reddening,  "  as  for  that,  it  was  n't 
of  any "  but  MacKenzie  raised  his  hand. 

"  An'  you  did  it,"  he  proceeded,  "  by  suggestin'  a 
way  out  of  a  deeficulty.  I  may  say  a  brilliant 
way,"  he  added.  "  Have  ye  your  wits  about  you 
to-night,  man  ?  for  there  is  a  deeficulty  ready  for 
your  solvin'  that 's  too  much  for  my  brain — an'  too 
much  for  von  Altdorf's,  here,  into  the  bargain, 
diplomatist  though  he  is." 

"  Why,"  said  I,  "  I  'm  no  barrister,  and  I  'm  no 
writer  of  melodramas  either,  that  I  should  be  able 
to  solve  difficulties  at  the  drop  of  the  handkerchief ; 
but  what 's  your  trouble,  Sir  Gavin  ?  At  least  let 's 
hear  it." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      11 

MacKenzie  shook  his  head  and  made  a  little 
helpless  gesture  with  his  two  hands. 

"  'T  is  no  trouble  o'  mine,"  said  he,  "  that  is,  in  a 
way  o'  speakin'.  Indirectly  it's  bound  to  be  a 
trouble  to  all  of  us  who  're  concerned."  He  nodded 
to  Colonel  von  Altdorf. 

"  Tell  him,  man,"  said  he. 

Yon  Altdorf  rested  his  elbows  upon  the  edge  of 
the  little  table,  hands  clasped  among  the  glasses, 
and  turned  his  deep  set  eyes  upon  mine.  When  he 
spoke  it  was  in  excellent  English  but  with  an  ac 
cent,  a  dwelling  upon  sibilants,  an  alien  value  of 
dentals  and  gutterals  too  slight  to  be  reproducible. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Novodnia  is,  Mr.  Creigh- 
ton  ?  "  said  he. 

"I  do,"  said  I.  "It's  on  the  lower  Danube  all 
mixed  up  with  Koumania  and  Servia  and  Bulgaria 
and  the  rest.  It 's  the  littlest  one,  is  n't  it  ?  Poor 
dear  !  Eussia  will  gobble  it  some  day." 

"  Precisely,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf  unsmiling. 
"  Precisely !  Kussia  will  gobble  it  some  day,  but 
Russia  has  n't  gobbled  it  yet,  my  friend.  It  would 
perhaps  have  been  better  for  certain  people  if  she 
had.  Yery  well,  if  you  know  that  much  you  may 
possibly  know  that  a  certain  prince  of  the  dominant 
house  in  Novodnia  has  recently,  through  a  most  ex 
traordinary  and  improbable  series  of  deaths,  come 
to  the  throne." 

"Carol  III!"  said  I. 

" Precisely,"  agreed  von  Altdorf  again.     "Carol 


12      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

III  sits  upon  the  seat  of  his  fathers.  May  he  long 
sit  there  !  But  the  point  is  this.  I  have  said  that 
he  came  to  the  throne  through  an  extraordinary 
series  of  deaths.  Indeed  so  improbable  was  his 
succession  considered  that  it  was  never  thought  of 
at  all,  that  he  was  allowed  to  marry  outside  of 
royal  circles." 

"  The  deuce ! "  said  I.  "  You  begin  to  complicate 
matters." 

"  Being  without  fortune,"  continued  Colonel  von 
Altdorf,  "the  Prince  at  last  married  a  young 
American  woman  of  great  beauty,  I  understand, 
and  of  tremendous  wealth;  his  idea  being,  of 
course,  to  establish  himself  in  the  state  which  his 
rank  permitted  but  his  lack  of  fortune  forbade." 

"  And  then,"  said  I.  "  Why  then,  no  sooner  was 
he  married  than  occurred  this  improbable  series  of 
deaths  which  brought  him  to  the  throne  and — face 
to  face  with  an  extremely  embarrassing  problem." 

"  You  state  it,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf,  "  with 
brevity  and  point.  His  wife  being  not  of  royal 
rank,  indeed  a  commoner,  his  children  by  her  could 
not  succeed  to  the  throne." 

"  There  remained  then,"  said  I,  "  but  one  course. 
The  marriage  had  to  be  regarded  as  a  morganatic 
one,  and  a  princess  of  the  proper  extraction  pro 
vided." 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  smiled. 

"  We  get  on,"  said  he  with  a  little  inclination  of 
his  head.  "  But  right  at  this  point — if  I  may  con- 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      13 

tinue  the  tale — arose  an  amazing  and  most  unlocked 
for  obstacle  in  the  path  of  what  might  have  been 
considered  an  embarrassing,  but  surely  not  an  un- 
surmountable  difficulty.  The  Prince,  if  you  like, 
refused  point  blank  either  to  divorce  his  wife  or  to 
marry  again  in  his  own  rank." 

"The  devil!"  said  I. 

"  My  sentiments  exactly,"  observed  Colonel  von 
Altdorf. 

"  But  there  is  more  to  come  if  I  mistake  not  ?  "  I 
protested. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  smiled  again. 

"  It  is  a  matter  of  gratification  to  me,"  he  said, 
"  that  you  happened  into  the  Cafe  d'Alenc.  on  this 
evening.  You  have  not  a  slow  mind.  Yes,  there  is 
more  to  come.  Fate,  my  friend,  when  she  takes  it 
into  her  head  to  play  a  momentous  trick,  plays  it 
most  thoroughly  to  the  end.  She 's  a  good  sports 
woman,  Fate.  I  've  seen  her  play  strange  games. 
Aye,  and  I  've  taken  a  hand  with  her  at  times,  but 
I  've  never  seen  her  yet  in  so  wholly  wanton  a  mood 
as  this. 

"  The  marriage,  of  which  we  have  been  speaking, 
took  place  in  America,  at  a  watering  place  not  far 
from  New  York,  I  believe,  a  place  called  Newport, 
where  the  young  American  woman's  family  had  a 
large  summer  chateau.  The  ceremony  was,  of 
course,  solemnised  in  a  church,  at  some  little  dis 
tance  from  the  chateau.  But  while  the  newly 
married  pair  were  being  driven  from  the  church  to 


14      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

a  fe"te  which  was  to  follow,  the  horses  attached  to 
the  bridal  landau  took  fright  at  the  passing  of  a 
motor  car  and  ran  away,  finally  dashing  the  landau 
to  pieces  against  an  iron  column,  a  street  lamp,  I 
understand.  The  Prince  escaped  with  a  few 
bruises,  his  wife  on  the  contrary " 

"  Not  dead  ?  not  dead  ?  "  I  cried,  leaning  forward 
over  the  little  table. 

"  His  wife,  on  the  contrary,"  said  von  Altdorf, 
"  was  severely  injured — injured  as  to  the  head.  Her 
injuries  were  so  severe,  in  fact,"  he  continued,  turn 
ing  the  little  liqueur  glass  slowly  in  his  hand,  and 
staring  down  upon  it,  "  that  she  was  still  in  a  con 
dition  of  unconsciousness  and  delirium,  when  a  fort 
night  later  the  Prince  was  called  home  to  Novodnia 
upon  the  sudden  death  of  his  father  and  brothers 
by  the  malignant  fever  which  swept  the  entire 
family." 

"  And  since  ?  "  I  cried,  "  since  ?  Get  on  with  it, 
Colonel !  "What  has  happened  since  ?  " 

"  Why,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf,  "  the  most  ex 
traordinary  part  of  it  has  happened  since.  TJie 
Prince's  wife,  struck  down  so  cruelly,  as  it  were 
upon  the  altar  steps,  recovered  from  her  injuries  in 
a  month's  time — bodily." 

"Bodily!"  said  I  in  a  half  whisper,  "bodily? 
why — why  you  do  n't  mean  she 's " 

"  The  blow  being  upon  the  head,"  continued  von 
Altdorf,  "has  in  some  manner — for  information 
upon  which  I  must  refer  you  to  our  friend  the 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      ij 

physician  here — so  acted  upon  her  brain,  that,  upon 
her  bodily  recovery,  it  was  found  she  had  com 
pletely  lost  her  memory  of  recent  events,  of  any 
event,  indeed,  later  in  occurrence  than  a  year 
back." 

"  Good  God ! "  I  cried.  "  Then  she  did  n't  know 
she  had  been  married?  She  did  n't  remember  the 
Prince  at  all  ?  " 

"  The  unfortunate  lady  had,  alas,  no  recollection 
whatever  of  anything  connected  with  her  marriage 
or  her  acquaintance  with  the  Prince.  She  would 
not  know  him  if  she  were  to  meet  him  face  to 
face. 

"Of  course  she  was  told  of  her  marriage,  that 
had  to  be  done,  though  at  the  expense  of  a  great 
nervous  shock,  but,  as  she  grew  no  better,  the  fam 
ily  deemed  it  the  wisest  plan  to  bring  her  to  Europe, 
to  place  her,  in  short,  under  the  personal  care  of 
the  greatest  alienist  living.  They  brought  her  to 
Sir  Gavin  here,  and  Sir  Gavin  is  devoting  his  ex 
clusive  attention  to  her  treatment." 

"  What,  here  ?  "  said  I,  "  here  in  Paris  ?  " 

"  Where  else  ?  "  demanded  Colonel  von  Altdorf. 

Now  MacKenzie  had,  as  I  knew,  taken,  six 
months  before,  that  great  triangle  of  garden  which 
is  comprised  between  the  Boulevard  Kaspail,  the 
rue  Denfert  Kochereau  and  the  little  impasse  called 
the  rue  Boissonade.  The  triangle  extends,  from  its 
base  along  the  rue  Boissonade,  nearly  to  the  Place 
du  Lion  de  Belfort,  and  belonged,  at  one  time,  to  a 


16      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

convent  of  importance,  whose  quaint  mediaeval 
buildings,  set  near  the  point  of  the  triangle,  and 
opening  upon  the  rue  Denfert  Kochereau,  MacKen- 
zie  had  made  habitable  and  refurnished  with  some 
comfort.  As  for  the  garden,  high  walled  from  the 
streets,  there  is  no  finer  in  old  Paris. 

It  was  here  then  that  the  unfortunate  lady  must 
be  living,  a  scant  half  mile  from  where  we  sat  in 
the  Cafe  d'Ale^on. 

"And  she's  better?"  I  asked.  "She'll  re 
cover  ?  " 

MacKenzie  dropped  a  fist  upon  the  little  table 
and  the  glasses  jumped  and  rattled. 

"  She 's  no  better,"  said  he,  "  nor  will  be  if  I  know 
my  trade.  There  are  things  too  secret  for  human 
skill,  man,  things  that  lie  on  the  gods'  knees  and 
must  ever  be  so.  The  poor  lady  will  never  have 
back  her  year  of  memory  unless  it  be  by  some 
miracle  that 's  beyond  our  own  ken.  But  just  now 
we  are  brought  face  to  face  with  a  new  problem. 
The  lady,  so  soon  as  she  was  informed  of  her  mar 
riage,  began  to  express  a  most  lively  interest  in  her 
unknown  husband,  an  interest  which  has  grown — 
she  is  still  in  a  nervous  state,  too  delicate  to  be 
trifled  with,  ye '11  understand — to  such  a  degree 
that  we're  at  our  wits'  end.  She  fancies — poor 
body — that  we  're  in  a  league  to  keep  him  from  her, 
and  won't  understand  why  he  can't  be  produced. 
She's  rapidly  working  herself  to  the  point  o'  de 
mentia  again,  an'  unless  something  can  be  done 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      17 

within  the  next  few  days  I  '11  not  answer  for  con 
sequences." 

"  And  he  ?  "  said  I,  "  the  Prince  ?  He 's  la  bas, 
I  suppose,  in  Novodnia  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  von  Altdorf.  "  He 's  at  home  where 
he  can't  be  spared,  struggling  to  keep  the  throne  of 
his  fathers  under  his  body,  and  to  prevent  those 
pestilent  Pavelovitches  from  sitting  in  his  seat,  as 
they  'd  give  their  souls  to  do,  curse  them ! " 

"  Ah ! "  said  I.  "  There 's  another  dynasty  weary 
for  a  throne  to  sit  upon  ?  Pavelovitch  ?  I  seem  to 
recollect  the  name." 

"  They  're  the  Kussian  party,"  growled  von  Alt 
dorf.  "  And  may  the  devil  take  his  own !  There  'd 
be  no  independence  in  Novodnia  with  a  Pavelovitch 
on  the  throne.  God  knows  there's  little  enough 
anyhow.  No,  Prince  Karl  must  n't  leave  the  coun 
try  now,  it  would  be  next  to  fatal.  Yet,  alas,  if  he 
does  n't  leave  it  must  be  next  to  fatal  to  the  loveli 
est  lady  alive — God  pity  her !  It 's  a  nation  against 
a  woman.  Mr.  Creighton,  they  say  you  're  good  at 
riddles,  read  me  this  one.  It 's  too  deep  for  such 
as  I." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  Dites  done,  garcon  1 "  said  I.  "  Another  Grand 
Marnier.  And  for  M.  le  Docteur  another  whiskey 
a  1'eau,  and  for  M.  le  Colonel  a  grog  Americain. 
Alas,  Colonel,  I'm  no  reader  of  riddles.  The 
Prince,  you  say,  can't  come  to  Paris  ?  " 

"He  mustn't,"  declared  von  Altdorf  frowning. 


i8      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  God  knows  he  would  if  he  could.  I  'm  in  daily 
terror  of  his  turning  up,  malgre  tout,  such  terror 
that  I  've  taken  pains  to  make  him  a  virtual  pris 
oner,  la  bas.  No,  the  Prince  can't  come." 

"  And  the  Prin — and  Madame,"  said  I,  "  has  no 
memory  of  the  Prince,  would  not  know  him  from — 
from  me,  for  example  ?  " 

"Why  no,"  agreed  von  Altdorf  watching  me 
curiously,  "  no,  she  would  n't  know  him  from  you, 
man,  or  me.  "What  then,  my  riddle  reader  ?  " 

"  Then,"  I  cried,  "  it  would  seem  to  me,  gentle 
men,  that  the  only  thing  to  do — minding  always  that 
Madame's  reason  is  at  stake,  perhaps  her  very  life, 
and  that  desperate  situations  demand  desperate 
remedies — it  would  seem  to  me  that  the  only  thing 
to  do  is — to  create  a  temporary  Prince  here  in 
Paris — wait,  wait !  only,  of  course,  till  Madame  is 
so  restored  in  health  and  mental  equilibrium  that 
she  can  bear  to  be  told  the  truth,  gently,  very 
gently,  and  prepared  for  what  is  before  her." 

"  Great  God  !  "  said  von  Altdorf  softly,  and  stared 
at  me,  wide-eyed.  The  glass  of  steaming  grog  that 
he  held  beat  a  sort  of  tattoo  upon  the  marble  top  of 
the  little  table.  "  Great  God  !  "  said  he  again. 

Sir  Gavin  MacKenzie  had  been  striking  a  match 
to  light  the  great  black  meerschaum  that  hung  from 
his  mouth.  The  match  flared  and  twisted  and 
burned  down  till  it  scorched  his  unheeding  fingers, 
but  Sir  Gavin's  eyes  were  upon  my  face,  narrowed 
a  bit,  very  steady,  and  Sir  Gavin's  brows  were 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      19 

gathered  into  a  knot  over  his  nose.  I  think  that 
none  of  us  spoke  for  several  minutes,  but  each 
stared  at  the  others  weighing  the  thing  in  mind, 
counting  the  gain  and  loss. 

"  I  'm  no  sure  but  ye  have  it,  man,"  said  the 
alienist  at  last.  He  spoke  in  a  half  whisper  and 
his  eyes  questioned  Colonel  von  Altdorf.  He  had 
quite  forgotten  the  unlighted  pipe. 

Yon  Altdorf  drank  half  his  long  glass  of  steam 
ing  grog.  The  glass  clicked  against  his  teeth. 

"  Aye,"  said  he  gruffly,  "  very  clever  and  very 
bold,  but  who  's  to  do  it  ?  It 's  no  easy  task,  mind 
you." 

MacKenzie  leaned  forward. 

"  Now  there 's  you,"  he  suggested  persuasively. 
"  Me  she  knows,  of  course,  but  there 's  you.  You  'd 
know  all  the  tricks  too." 

"  Not  for  a  crown  in  heaven ! "  cried  the  other. 
"  I  've  been  a  diplomatist  all  my  life,  and  it 's  likely 
I  've  no  character  left  me,  but  I  want  to  die  a  com 
paratively  honest  man. — Not  for  a  crown  in  heaven, 
my  friend." 

"  Or  you,"  said  MacKenzie  turning  to  me.  "  'T  is 
your  plan,  do  you  play  it  out." 

"  Not  I,"  I  declared  with  some  vigour.  "  I  '11  make 
you  schemes  if  you  like,  but  I  '11  play  no  blackguard 
for  you  or  any  one  else,  MacKenzie." 

"And  there  we  are,"  mourned  the  Scotsman. 
"'Tis  the  only  possible  way,  rash  and  desperate 
though  it  be,  an'  there 's  no  one  to  play  the  part. 


20      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

A  gentleman — in  a  manner  o'  speakin' — we  must 
have,  but  no  gentleman  would  do  the  thing.  A 
rascal  will  never  serve  our  use.  Man,  why  need 
ye  spoil  our  peace  o'  mind  with  your  mad  schemes  ? 
I  shall  be  thinkin'  o'  nothing  else." 

And  we  sat  all  three  shaking  our  heads  most  rue 
fully,  for  in  truth  there  seemed  no  way  out  of  the 
impasse. 


CHAPTER  II 

THERE  came  a  chorus  of  shouts  and  laugh 
ter  from  the  loungers  upon  the  terrasse 
without,  a  snatch   of  maudlin  song  in  a 
voice  I  seemed  to  know,  and  a  very  tall  young  man 
broke  into  the  room,  tacking  like  a  yacht  in  a 
heavy  sea,  and  hove  to  with  a  sudden  lurch  before 
the  throne  of  the  majestic  Dame  du  Comptoir  that 
faced  the  door. 

"Beautiful  lady,"  cried  the  young  man  gazing 
passionately  up  into  the  alarmed  countenance  of 
the  patronne,  and  making  a  theatrical  gesture  of 
hand  to  heart,  "  beautiful  lady  be  not  'f-fraid !  'S' 
only — me !  Light  that  'tracts  moths  'n'  HP  bugs  t' 
flutter  round  it,  'tracted  me  way  from  Boulevard 

St.    G'main Could  n'  stop  'way  f'm    you." 

And  he  swept  her  a  bow  that  nearly  dragged  his 
black  curls  in  the  dust  of  the  floor,  the  very  carica 
ture  of  a  bow,  such  as  one  might  see  upon  a  music- 
hall  stage  or  in  a  farce  comedy. 

"Oh — oh — oh  fair,  oh  sweet," 

said  he  tearfully. 

41  When  I  do  1-look  on  thee, 
In  whom  all  joys  so  well  agree, 
Heart  'n'  soul  do  sing  in  me." 

Upon  my  word  the  rascal  might  have  made  his 


22      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

fortune  on  the  stage.  He  had  a  voice  of  a  quality 
of  a  resonance,  of  a  timbre  !  A  voice  to  ring  ten 
derness  from  a  plaster  cast. 

I  have  said  that  he  was  a  very  tall  young  man. 
He  had  a  singularly  lithe,  supple  figure,  slender  at 
waist  and  hips  but  very  broad  in  the  shoulders. 
He  might  have  been  a  'varsity  oarsman.  He  wore 
no  beard  or  moustache  but  the  hair  upon  his  head 
was  black  and  waving,  almost  curly,  and  random 
locks  of  it  fell  down  over  his  forehead  nearly  to  the 
straight  brows.  He  had  a  pair  of  merry,  grey  eyes, 
deep  set,  and  a  mouth  that  seemed  to  have  been 
forced  into  a  sternness  of  line  unnatural  to  it,  despite 
the  firm  square  jaw  beneath.  His  smile  was  the 
smile  of  a  child — I  have  never  known  any  one  who 
could  resist  it — but  about  his  eyes  were  circles  and 
lines  of  ill  living  that  never  would  be  wholly  erased. 
He  looked  a  strange  mixture  of  opposites,  of  war 
ring  elements,  this  drunken  young  reprobate  with 
the  thrilling  voice  who  pressed  his  heart  under  his 
two  hands,  and  quoted  the  late  Sir  Philip  Sydney  to 
a  buxom  and  perturbed  French  woman  who  could  n't 
understand. 

"  Mais  tenez,  tenez ! "  cried  the  patronne  at  last, 
laughing  and  holding  her  ears.  "Allez  vous  en, 
M.  Mallory !  Vous  m'embarrasez." 

The  tall  young  man  turned  away  with  a  gloomy 
wave  of  the  hand  and  gazed  abstractedly  down  the 
room.  He  caught  my  eye  for  a  moment  and  bowed 
with  an  impressive  dignity. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      23 

"  Drunken  swine !  "  growled  MacKenzie.  "  Who 
is  he?" 

"  Why,"  said  I,  looking  after  the  tall  young  man 
who  had  seated  himself  at  one  of  the  little  tables 
by  the  opposite  wall,  "  why  he 's  a  queer  lot,  a  most 
uncommon  queer  lot.  His  name  is  Mallory,  Denis 
Mallory,  and  he  comes,  I  'm  told,  of  a  very  good 

family  indeed  somewhere  in  Ulster He 's  Irish 

of  course He  was  a  Sub.  in  a  Cavalry  regiment 

at  one  time,  but  he  got  himself  into  some  sort  of  a 
scrape,  ran  up  debts  that  his  governor  could  n't  or 
would  n't  pay  off,  and  he  had  to  sell  out.  I  fancy 
it  broke  him  up  a  good  bit,  made  him  lose  his  grip, 
for  he's  been  a  pretty  fairly  hard  lot  ever  since. 
That  happened  five  or  six  years  ago.  He's  been 
the  approved  type  of  soldier  of  fortune  for  the 
most  part — the  sort  you  read  about  in  the  story 
books.  He's  fought  from  Venezuela  to  South 
Africa  and  from  the  Sudan  to  China.  There's 
no  doubt  that  he's  a  good  soldier,  and  I  greatly 
fear  there 's  little  doubt  that  he 's  a  good  nothing 
else.  Yes,  he's  the  approved  type  of  Chevalier 
d'Industrie,  such  as  you  read  of,  with  the  difference 
that  he's  no  better  off  for  his  adventures.  The 
story  book  heroes  have  always  a  breast  covered 
with  medals,  and  a  fortune  amassed.  Poor  Mallory 
has  neither.  I  suppose  there 's  no  man  in  Paris  to 
day  who  has  fought  in  more  little  wars,  braved 
more  diverse  dangers — or  made  love  to  more 
women,  and  yet  he 's  what  you  see  over  there,  a 


24      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

dissolute  young  reprobate  with  the  soul  of  a  poet, 
the  tongue  of  an  angel,  the  record  of  a  Cesar  de 
Bazan,  and  seldom  a  franc  to  bless  himself  with. 
He  ekes  out  a  hand  to  mouth  existence,  I  'm  told,  by 
writing  sketches  for  some  London  journal.  Aye, 
aye,  he 's  a  queer  lot,  a  most  uncommon  queer  lot ! 
Every  one  knows  him  here,  and  every  one  despises 
him,  and  yet — why  curiously  enough,  every  one  has 
a  sneaking  fondness  for  him  too.  He 's  a  rogue  if 
you  like,  but  a  debonair  rogue,  it  can't  be  denied. 
Moreover,  he 's  not  a  scoundrel,  you  '11  understand, 
dissipated  though  he  be.  He 's  still,  in  a  way,  a 
gentleman.  No  one  ever  knew  him  to  lie  or  take 
an  unfair  advantage." 

MacKenzie  shook  a  heavy  head. 

"  A  wasted  life,"  said  he.  "  A  man  o'  parts  to 
wreck  himself  for  the  love  o'  excitement  an'  drink. 
'T  is  a  sad  case." 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  was  leaning  forward,  elbows 
upon  the  little  table  among  the  glasses,  and  fingers 
absently  stroking  his  grizzled  moustache.  There 
was  a  curious  expression  upon  his  face — a  most 
curious  expression.  His  eyes,  narrowed  a  bit,  were 
upon  young  Denis  Mallory  across  the  room. 

All  at  once  his  thought  burst  upon  my  mind.  It 
was  as  if  he  had  spoken  it  by  word.  I  met  his 
eyes  excitedly,  and  for  an  instant  the  thing  seemed 
possible. 

"  Our  man,"  said  von  Altdorf  quietly. 

"  Ah,  no,  no  !  "  I  cried.     "  He — he  would  n't  do 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      25 

it.  "Why,  man,  it 's  almost  a  blackguard's  trick,  im 
posing  upon  a  helpless  woman  so.  I  've  told  you 
that  he 's  still  in  a  way  a  gentleman.  He  'd  never 
play  a  trick  upon  a  woman.  No,  no,  it 's  out  of  the 
question.  I  was  mad  to  suggest  such  a  scheme,  it 
could  n't  be  done — Mallory  would  n't  do  it  anyhow." 

"  It 's  got  to  be  done,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf 
from  between  closed  teeth.  "  I  tell  you  we  're  in  a 
desperate  way.  It 's  playing  a  trick  upon  a  woman 
to  save  her  reason.  You  do  n't  appreciate  the  state 
she 's  in.  It 's  a  desperate  game  but  it 's  the  only 
one  to  be  played,  and  your  young  adventurer 
yonder  is  the  man  to  play  it.  After  all  it 's  no  such 
blackguardly  thing,  and  what  responsibility  there  is 
will  be  shared  amongst  us  all.  If  he  plays  the  part 
it 's  we  who  lead  him  to  it.  And  the  lady  shall  be 
told  the  truth  so  soon  as  she 's  able  to  bear  it." 

I  took  a  long  breath. 

"  It 's  not  to  my  liking,"  said  I,  but  I  caught 
young  Mallory's  eye  across  the  room,  and  raised  a 
beckoning  hand. 

He  came  over  to  our  table  a  bit  unsteadily,  tack 
ing  as  before,  like  a  yacht  in  a  heavy  sea,  and  stood 
with  a  hand  upon  the  back  of  a  chair,  smiling  down 
upon  us  all,  the  cheery,  confidential  smile  of  intoxi 
cation — save  that  with  him  it  had  a  certain  per 
sonal  quality,  a  magnetism,  a  sort  of  sweetness. 

"  Mallory,"  said  I,  "  I  want  to  present  you  to  Sir 
Gavin  MacKenzie,  and  to  Colonel  von  Altdorf  of 
the  Novodnian  service."  Young  Mallory  bowed 


26      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

easily  to  Sir  Gavin  and  saluted  von  Altdorf  with 
an  instinctive  drawing  up,  a  stiffening  into  military 
carriage.  Then  he  lurched  into  a  chair  and  smiled 
again. 

"  A  congress  o'  n-nations,  gentlemen,"  said  he. 
"  A  c-conference  o'  the  Powers.  'Pon  my — my  faith 
you'll  not  find  four  races  in  four  men  gathered 

around  one  table  every  day.  Scotland "  He 

beamed  groggily  upon  Sir  Gavin.  "Hoots  mon 
will  ye  no'  dance  us  a  fling  ?  " 

MacKenzie  stiffened  in  his  chair,  but  I  hacked  at 
his  shins  under  the  table  and  he  sank  back 
again. 

"  England,"  said  young  Mallory,  and  wagged  a 
sorrowful  head  at  me.  "  Oh,  man,  had  you  the 
sins  o'  your  country  upon  your  head  this  night,  it 's 
heavy  you  'd  be  !  Novodnia — may  she  never  go  to 
fatten  the  white  bear's  belly  !  "  There  was  a  fer 
vent  "  amen  "  from  von  Altdorf.  "  An'  old  Ire 
land,  God  bless  her  green  shores  !  What  ?  a  drink 
did  you  say,  Creighton  ?  No  man  can  boast  he 's 
heard  me  cry  nay  to  that  call.  A  little  wine  for 
me  stomach's  sake.  Egad,  't  is  naught  else  I  've  had 
for  me  stomach's  sake  since  the  morning.  HS 
garcon,  make  that  wine  absinthe,  Pernod,  man,  an' 
look  sharp !  I  'm  in  need  of  it." 

"  Great  Heaven,  Mallory  !  "  said  I,  "  do  you 
mean  to  say  yott've  eaten  nothing  since  morning  ? 
You  're  drinking  on  an  empty  stomach  ?  Why,  it 's 
suicide !  Absinthe,  too,  and  in  the  evening.  Here, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      27 

garcon,  deux  sandwiches  pour  mousier,  tout  a 
1'instant ! " 

He  fell  upon  the  sandwiches  when  they  came, 
most  ravenously,  huge,  thick  and  unpalatable  though 
they  were,  and  never  paused  until  he  had  finished 
them. 

The  three  of  us  watched  him  in  silence.  Then, 
when  he  had  made  an  end,  he  drew  himself  up 
with  a  little  sigh  of  comfort. 

"  Bad  manners,  gentlemen,"  said  he  smiling 
again.  He  seemed  more  himself,  the  food  had 
taken  off  the  edge  of  his  intoxication.  "  Bad  man 
ners,  I  grant  you — but  faith,  I  needed  the  sand 
wiches.  By  some  extraordinary  mischance  I  neg 
lected  to  lunch  or  dine.  I  forget  the  reason 

Ah  yes,  't  was  a  poor  little  devil  of  a  model  out  of 
work,  who  needed  the  dinner  worse  than  I.  An' 
then — why  then,  what  with  a  pair  of  absinthes  on 
an  empty  stomach — or  maybe  three — I — I  went  off 
the  hook  just  a  wee  bit.  It  may  be  that  I  'm  a 
trifle  screwed,  just  a  trifle,  but  you  '11  not  mind — 
't  is  an  accident,  not  a  habit." 

He  caught  up  the  tumbler  of  opalescent,  greenish- 
yellow  liquor  that  stood  at  his  elbow  and  smiled 
upon  it  fondly. 

"  My  only  friend,"  said  he  in  that  wonderful  deep 
tender  voice  of  his — upon  my  word  he  might  have 
been  making  love  speeches  to  a  sweetheart. 

"  The  only  friend  out  o'  them  all  who 's  stood  by 
me,  good  times  and  bad.  You  've  never  failed  me 


28      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

yet.  Gentlemen,  I  've  wandered  and  I  've  fought 
from  Caracas  to  Ladysmith,  and  from  Kartum  to 
Tien  Tsin,  and  I  Ve  chummed  up  with  more  people 
than  I  dare  say,  but  on  my  faith  in  Heaven — if 
I've  any  left — there's  never  a  man  o'  them  has 
stuck  by  me,  never  a  woman  but's  played  me 
false."  He  smiled  down  upon  the  glinting  liquor 
in  the  glass. 

"  To  the  green  devil,  gentlemen,"  he  cried,  "  the 
green  devil  who  stands  by  me,  fair  weather  or  foul, 
who  slaps  me  on  the  shoulder  when  I  'm  down  on 
me  luck,  who  takes  me  by  the  hand  and  leads  me 
into  paradise  when  the  world 's  bitterest.  To  the 
little  green  devil  who  's  a  great  green  god — may  he 
ever  reign ! " 

He  tilted  the  glass  till  there  remained  but  half 
its  charge,  and  dropped  back  in  his  chair  with  his 
chin  upon  his  breast. 

I  leaned  over  the  table  and  laid  a  hand  upon  his 
arm. 

"  Mallory,"  said  I,  "  Mallory  !  "  and  shook  the 
arm  gently.  "Pull  together  a  bit,  man,  there's 
work  forward.  There's  a  great  game  afoot,  a 
risky  game,  Mallory,  a  desperate  game  such  as  you 
love.  It  wants  a  clear  head  and  a  ready  tongue, 
aye,  and  a  ready  arm  too,  maybe — in  the  event  of 
certain  contingencies.  A  bold  man's  wanted, 
come,  are  you  with  us  ?  " 

"My  only  friend,"  said  young  Mallory  shaking 
his  head  sadly.  "The  little  green  devil  who's  a 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      29 

great  green  god.  Aye,  a  great  green  god."  His 
voice  died  away  in  murmurings,  and  his  eyes  saw 
beyond  us,  far  beyond  the  Cafe  d'Alenpon — into 
paradise  perhaps. 

I  looked  at  MacKenzie  in  despair,  but  MacKenzie 
was  writing  upon  the  back  of  a  visiting  card.  He 
beckoned  a  waiter. 

"The  pharmacy  at  the  foot  of  the  Avenue  du 
Maine,"  said  he,  "  and  quickly." 

The  distance  was  short,  and  the  man  was  back  in 
a  few  moments  with  a  small  vial,  red  labelled. 
MacKenzie  poured  a  few  drops  of  the  liquid  into  a 
wine-glass  of  water.  It  sent  up  a  keen  and  pungent 
odour  as  of  ammonia. 

"Drink  this,"  said  he,  setting  the  glass  before 
young  Mallory.  And  Mallory  drank,  his  eyes  still 
beyond  us,  far  beyond  the  Cafe  d'Alenpon. 

But  in  a  moment  the  eyes  returned,  narrowed, 
frowned  a  bit.  He  turned  to  the  Scotsman  curi 
ously. 

"  Why,  't  is  a  queer  drink,  your  liquor,  man,  un 
common  nasty — and  I  owe  you  small  thanks ; 
you  've  waked  me  from  a  most  delightful  revery." 

He  smiled  across  at  me. 

"  You  spoke  of  a  game,  Creighton,"  he  said,  "  a 
desperate  game.  I  heard  all  your  words  but — well 
the  fact  is,  I  was  in  heaven  at  the  moment,  and  re 
turning  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  A  game,  my 
boy  ?  Let 's  hear  it.  I  'm  none  so  sure  but  I  'm. 
tired  of  games.  Out  with  it." 


30      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

I  glanced  at  MacKenzie  and  von  Altdorf  and 
they  nodded.  And  then,  very  briefly  and  holding 
his  eyes  with  mine,  I  told  young  Mallory  all  the 
story  of  Prince  Karl  of  Novodnia  and  of  the  un 
happy  lady  who  had  been  made  his  wife.  Once, 
during  the  tale,  he  shoved  the  wine-glass  toward 
MacKenzie,  never  taking  his  eyes  from  mine,  and 
MacKenzie  dropped  into  it  a  bit  of  the  pungent 
fluid  from  his  little  vial,  filled  it  up  with  water  and 
nodded  approvingly  when  the  Irishman  drank. 

"  And  so,  you  see,  Mallory,"  I  concluded, "  there 's 
but  the  one  thing  to  be  done,  a  desperate  thing 
maybe,  and  God  knows  how  it  may  fall  out,  but 
the  only  thing." 

For  a  long  time  after  I  finished  he  sat  silent,  star 
ing  at  the  wall  and  chafing  his  two  hands  together 
gently,  as  they  rested  upon  the  table's  edge,  but  he 
wandered  in  no  reveries  this  time,  he  peeped  into 
no  heavens  led  by  his  great  green  god.  His  face 
seemed  to  have  changed  to  that  of  another  man, 
keen,  frowning  a  bit,  close-mouthed  and  thoughtful. 

I  saw  von  Altdorf's  eyes  glisten  excitedly,  and 
even  old  MacKenzie's  face  had  gained  a  bit  of  eager 
colour. 

"  Yes,"  said  young  Mallory  at  last,  nodding  his 
head.  "Yes,  you  have  the  trick.  It's  the  only 
thing  to  do,  though  as  you  've  said,  God  knows  how 
it  may  fall  out.  It's  the  only  thing — an'  now 
who 's  to  do  it  ?  " 

"  "Why — why  you,  man ! "  I  cried.    "  Why,  you  of 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      31 

course,  did  n't  you  understand  ?  You  're  the  only 
one  could  carry  it  through." 

He  stared  at  me  an  instant  amazedly. 

"I?"  said  he,  "I?"  with  a  little  unbelieving 
laugh.  "  Come,  man,  you  're  joking.  You  do  n't 
mean  it  seriously  ?  /do  the  thing  ?  Oh  I  say !  " 
and  he  burst  out  in  a  roar  of  laughter  that  died 
away  quickly.  I  could  see  the  swift  course  of  his 
thoughts  as  well  as  if  he  had  spoken  them.  I  could 
see  him  picturing  the  possibilities  of  the  scheme, 
balancing  its  risks,  gloating  over  its  dangers.  It 
was  just  the  reckless  enterprise  to  take  his  fancy  as 
I  had  known  before  I  called  him  across  the  room. 

Then  all  at  once  his  face  became  puzzled. 

"  But — but  I  say  !  "  he  cried,  "  why  did  n't  one  of 
you  go  in  for  the  part  ?  Why  did  you  drag  me  into 
it  ?  "Why  not  you,  Creighton,  or  you,  Colonel  von 
Altdorf  ?  I  do  n't  quite  understand." 

"  Why,  you  see,"  said  I  stammering  a  bit,  and 
turning  colour  I've  no  doubt,  "you  see  I — I 
could  n't  do  it  because "  but  MacKenzie  inter 
rupted  me. 

"  There  are  excellent  reasons,"  said  he.  "  No  use 
going  into  them.  You  are  the  man  to  do  it,  Mr. 
Mallory.  You're  used  to  deeficult  situations  an' 
dangers.  Let  be  at  that !  Now  we  '11  make  it  a 
business  matter.  We  stand  ready  to  offer  you — no 
wait,  wait  a  bit,  man ! — to  offer  you  one  thousand 
francs  a  month  for  your  services.  That  will  do 
away  with  your  havin'  to  follow  your  regular  voca- 


32      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

tion,  for  we  could  not  think  of  bringin'  you  into  the 
affair,  that  is  none  of  yours,  on  other  grounds." 

The  angry  flush  died  slowly  away  from  young 
Mallory's  face  as  he  considered. 

"  Why  to  be  sure,"  said  he  thoughtfully,  "  I  've 
my  living  to  make,  such  as  it  is,  and  this  will  let  me 
out  of  that  cursed  newspaper  work  for  a  bit.  A 
thousand  a  month — forty  quid !  why  that 's  luxury. 
And  the  checker  game  again — lives  and  deaths. 
By  the  saints,  it  gives  me  a  genuine  thrill.  A  quick 
eye  and  a  ready  hand  and  a  mind  lookin'  three 
ways  at  once.  Done,  by  the  gods !  d one,  gentle 
men!  I'm  your  man."  And  he  laughed  aloud 
joyously,  and  put  out  a  hand  to  MacKenzie  over 
the  table.  But  MacKenzie  was  busy  with  the  big 
meerschaum  just  then. 

As  for  von  Altdorf,  he  was  suddenly  engaged  in 
rolling  a  cigarette  which  seemed  to  demand  his 
whole  attention.  And  I — oh,  I  take  no  pride  in 
telling  it  now — I  was  doing  something  wholly  un 
necessary  to  my  cravat.  And  my  cheeks  burned 
red.  I  was  not  grown  old  in  such  matters  like 
MacKenzie  and  von  Altdorf. 

Young  Mallory  looked  at  our  faces  quickly,  in 
turn,  then  down  at  his  outstretched  hand  and  up 
again.  He  frowned  a  little,  and  his  eyes  were 
puzzled,  hurt  like  a  child's.  He  drew  the  hand 
back  to  him  slowly  and  touched  it  with  the  other 
as  if  he  thought  there  must  be  something  wrong 
with  it. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      33 

"  Why — gentlemen,"  he  said  in  a  little  surprised 

stammering  tone,  "I — I  don't  under "  Then 

all  at  once  he  halted  and  remained  silent  for  a  long 
time.  His  face  flushed  crimson  and  paled  again. 

"  Ah  1 "  said  he  at  last,  very  low,  "  I  think  I — see 
— I  'm  the — cat's  paw  !  You  would  n't  do  the 
thing  yourselves,  it 's  too — low.  It 's  a  bit  of  dirty 
work  that  you  think  no — gentleman  could  bring 
himself  to,  so  you  would  n't  do  it — and — and  you 
won't  take  the  hand  of  the  man  who  will  do  the 
thing.  You  were  looking  for  a — a  blackguard  and 
you — chose  me  !  Good  God  in  heaven ! " 

He  dropped  his  face  into  his  hands  for  an  instant. 
I  think  I  have  never  seen  such  shame,  such  humilia 
tion,  in  any  eyes.  I  could  n't  bear  to  meet  them. 

"  You — chose  me  ?  "  said  he  again  in  a  half 
whisper.  "  Why  it  is  a  rather  blackguardly  thing  to 
do,  is  n't  it,  deceiving  a  woman  ?  She  'd  trust  us — 
me,  utterly,  would  n't  she  ?  She  would  n't  have  a 
suspicion.  She'd  be  happy,  I  expect,  beautifully 
happy  with  it  all,  till — till  she  was  told.  Oh,  it 's 
damnable ! "  He  caught  up  the  half  filled  tumbler 
of  absinthe  and  drained  it  at  a  gulp.  "  Damnable !  " 
said  he  a  little  thickly,  "  damnable !  " 

Then, — after  a  moment,  he  began  to  laugh  and 
his  eyes  grew  heavy  and  a  bit  glazed  once  more. 

It  was  as  if  MacKenzie's  drug  had  held  him  for 
the  few  moments  and  then  given  way,  all  in  an 
instant,  at  the  first  touch  of  the  drink. 

"  Come,  come,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  we  must  n't 

3 


34     THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

quarrel.  LIT  children  love  one  'nother.  We've 
got  work  to  do  among  us.  You  think  I  'm  no — no 
gen'leman.  I  do  n't  care.  Gimme  my  forty  quid  a 
month  an'  I  '11  do  the  work." 

He  made  a  sudden  frowning  effort  to  pull  him 
self  together  and  turned  about  to  MacKenzie  with 
a  certain  dignity. 

"  You — your  logic,  sir,  is  a  bit  beyond  me,"  said 
he.  "  If  it 's  blackguardly  for  me  to  do  the  thing, 
I  can't  see  but  it's — it's  blackguardly  in  you  to 
countenance  it.  When  do  you — when  do  you  wish 
to  commence  ?  " 

"  We  will  commence,"  said  the  Scotsman,  "  at 
once,  to-morrow.  Every  day's  delay  is  a  pressing 
danger."  He  looked  down  at  the  glasses  before 
him.  Even  old  MacKenzie  couldn't  meet  the 
Irishman's  eyes  just  then.  "As  for  your — your 
suspicions  of  our — attitude  toward  you,  you  're 
quite  wrong  of  course,  of  course.  We  're  equally 
responsible  with  you  in  everything.  Now  listen 
carefully  please.  You  will  be  presented  to — 
madam e  your  wife.  Your  wife,  you  understand  ? 
by  me.  You  will  spend  an  hour  or  two  of  each  day 
with  her,  at  my  house  or  in  the  garden,  as  she  may 
prefer.  The  short  interview  will  be  explained  to 
her  on  the  grounds  of  her  weak  state  and  nervous 
condition.  Of  course,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  she  will 
neither  expect  nor  wish  for  more  at  the  present, 
since  you'll  meet,  ye  understan',  in  a  way  o* 
speakin',  as  strangers.  She'll  not  remember  you. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      35 

When  she  's  well  enough  and  strong  enough  the 
whole  thing  shall  be  explained  to  her.  My  place, 
in  case  ye  do  n't  know,  is  the  old  convent  property 
with  the  big  garden,  between  the  rue  Denfert 
Kochereau,  and  the  Boulevard  Kasfail." 

Young  Mallory  caught  at  the  edge  of  the  table. 

"  What  ?  "  he  cried  sharply.  "  What  ?  Say  that 
again,  man  !  The  big  garden  that  backs  upon  the 
rue  Boissonade  ?  " 

"  The  same,"  nodded  MacKenzie. 

"  Great  God ! "  said  the  Irishman  softly,  and  his 
eyes  were  round  and  strange. 

"Wait — wait!  And  the — the  Princess  walks — 
sometimes — in  the  garden,  tall,  very  beautiful — 
brown  bronze  hair  ?  " 

"Well  ?"  queried  Sir  Gavin. 

"Why  I — I  have  a — sort  of  studio  in  the  rue 
Boissonade ! "  said  young  Mallory.  It  was  as  if  he 
spoke  to  himself. 

"I've  seen  the — Princess.  I  won't  do  it!"  he 
cried  suddenly.  "  By  Heaven,  I  'm  no  blackguard, 
and  you  sha'  n't  make  me  one !  I  've  done  queer 
things  in  queer  places,  and  I  'm  not  proud  of  my 
life  or  of  what  I  've  done  with  it,  but  by  my  faith, 
I  '11  not  play  a  scurvy  trick  upon  that  woman  of  all 
people  in  the  world." 

"You've  agreed  to  do  it,"  said  MacKenzie 
quietly.  "  And  if  you  do  n't  do  it  that  woman  will 
very  probably  go  mad  in  a  week's  or  a  fortnight's 
time." 


36      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Young  Mallory's  elbows  were  upon  the  little 
table,  and  his  head  was  between  his  hands. 

"It's  fate,"  said  he  in  a  whisper.  "By  my 
soul,  it 's  fate,  and  none  o'  my  doing.  Actually  to 
know  her,  touch  her  hand,  look  in  her  eyes.  And 
God  knows  how  it  will  all  fall  out !  I  tell  you  it 's 
fate  !  I  '11  do  your  work,  sir,  never  you  fear.  Here, 
waiter,  an  absinthe — and  look  sharp  !  " 

MacKenzie  put  out  a  protesting  hand,  but  the 
Irishman  turned  upon  him  savagely. 

"  Damme,  sir ! "  he  cried,  and  MacKenzie,  no 
coward  if  you  like,  shrank  back  in  his  chair. 
"  Damme,  sir,  you  're  buying  my  services  for  your 
forty  quid  a  month,  not  my  person  nor  my  soul ! 
If  I  choose  to  take  a  drink,  by  my  faith  I  '11  take 
it ! "  He  dashed  the  water  in  upon  the  yellow 
liquor,  and  gulped  it  down.  Then,  in  a  moment, 
his  chin  dropped  forward  upon  his  breast  and  he 
babbled  of  little  green  devils  and  great  green  gods 
and  of  the  sights  and  sounds  of  paradise. 

MacKenzie  shook  his  square  Scotch  head  with  a 
sigh.  Colonel  von  Altdorf  tugged  moodily  at  his 
moustaches.  There  was  a  crease  between  his 
brows.  In  truth  our  game  seemed  but  ill  opened, 
and  the  hand  we  held  a  weak  one. 

"  Come,  gentlemen,"  I  cried,  in  a  tone  that  strove 
to  be  cheery,  "  come,  we  do  no  good  by  sitting  late. 
To  our  beds,  all  of  us !  Remember  to-morrow." 
I  clapped  young  Mallory  upon  the  shoulder,  and  he 
rose  with  a  jerk.  He  seemed  not  badly  off.  He 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      37 

walked  with  a  fair  steadiness,  and  held  his  tongue, 
but  his  eyes  were  heavy  and  glazed,  the  circles 
under  them  shockingly  black,  and  the  lines  about 
his  mouth  showed,  all  at  once,  haggard  and  drawn. 
He  turned  and  spoke  to  one  of  the  waiters,  who 
brought  him,  presently,  wrapped  in  a  bit  of  news 
paper — a  lump  of  ice. 

"  What,  going  to  keep  it  up  at  home,  old  man  ?  " 
I  cried.  "  Oh,  I  say,  remember  you  've  to-morrow 
to  think  of ! " 

"Eh?"  said  young  Mallory  turning  his  sombre 
eyes  upon  me,  "  keep — keep  what  up  ?  — I  've  four 
hours'  work  to  do  yet,  man.  I  've  three  thousand 
words  to  get  out  for  my  newspaper.  The  ice  is  to 
put  in  a  towel  and  wrap  my  head  in." 

"  But  Great  Heaven,  lad !  "  cried  MacKenzie. 
"  You  've  no  need  to  worry  about  newspapers  now  ! 
Chuck  them  up.  You  're  provided  for." 

Mallory  wrapped  the  bit  of  paper  more  closely 
about  his  lump  of  ice,  and  led  the  way  out  to  the 
street. 

"I  promised  them  the  thing,"  said  he  simply. 
"  You  would  n't  have  me  break  my  word  ? — I  think 
we  walk  the  same  way,  sir.  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

Yon  Altdorf  and  I  stood  under  the  awning  of 
the  terrasse  and  watched  the  two  up  the  Boulevard 
Montparnasse. 

"Wouldn't  disappoint  his  paper  because  he'd 
given  his  word,"  mused  von  Altdorf.  "  Going  to 
sit  up  all  night  with  ice  on  his  head  to  keep  a 


38      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

promise — and  soaked  in  absinthe  from  heels  to  hair ! 
—Oh  well,  one  lives  and  learns,  my  friend.  Now 
I  should  have  said  that  man  was  impossible — out 
of  a  story  book. — One  lives  and  learns." 

"  I  wish  I  'd  shaken  hands  with  him,"  said  I. 

"  You  '11  wish  that  more  heartily  still  before  the 
last  card's  played,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf. 
"  Yonder 's  a  man  1 " 


CHAPTEK  III 

THE  old  convent  garden  by  the  Boulevard 
Raspail  is  a  quaint  still  place  of  coolness 
and  of  odour,  of  damp,  black  mold  underfoot, 
mossy  with  age,  of  prim,  orderly  rows  of  trees  and 
shrubs,  of  mellow  sunshine  splashed  with  shadows, 
of  green  isolation,  of  peace  beyond  belief ;  a  walled 
quiet  where  the  outer  world  never  penetrates. 

There  are  many  such  in  old  Paris,  though  few, 
perhaps,  so  large.  They  lie  asleep  behind  those 
high,  blank  stuccoed  walls  with  spiked  tops  and  a 
"  Defense  d'Afficher "  printed  black  across  them, 
that  you  pass  in  your  walks  or  on  top  of  your  toot 
ing  tram.  You  may  see  the  tops  of  the  great  trees 
peeping  over  the  walls'  coping,  you  may  catch,  if 
it  be  springtide,  a  great  whiff  of  perfume,  lilac  or 
chestnut  or  acacia,  borne  out  to  you  by  some  va 
grant  little  puff  of  wind,  but  the  mysteries  that  lie 
behind  that  fifteen  feet  of  stone  and  plaster  you 
may  not  solve,  save,  once  in  a  long  time,  a  tiny 
postern  door  set  perchance  in  the  high  wall  may  be 
by  accident  left  ajar.  Then  you  shall  see  such  old 
world  quiet,  such  ordered  peace,  such  guarded 
sweetness ! 

The  big  convent  garden  is — as  has  been  said — a 
triangle,  with  its  apex  and  a  portion  of  one  side 


40      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

filled  by  the  former  convent  buildings.  Its  sides 
that  lie  along  the  Boulevard  Kaspail  and  the  rue 
Denfert  Rochereau  are  walled  to  a  great  height. 
No  eye  may  spy  upon  that  green  seclusion.  Its 
base  is  the  blank,  rear  wall  of  the  long  barrack-like 
row  of  studio  buildings,  two  stories  high,  that  face 
in  the  rue  Boissonade.  A  blank,  rear  wall  I  said. 
That  is  not  quite  true.  There  is — or  was — one 
window,  a  small  one,  set — heaven  knows  why — 
about  ten  feet  from  the  ground  of  the  garden  below. 
It  belongs  to  the  studio  at  the  end  of  the  long  row, 
at  the  inner  end  of  the  little  street,  for  the  rue 
Boissonade  is  properly  no  rue  at  all,  but  an  impasse. 
This  studio  was  occupied,  at  the  time  of  which  I 
write,  by  young  Denis  Mallory,  ex-soldier  of  for 
tune,  present  writer  of  descriptive  articles  for  a 
London  weekly  paper. 

A  quaint  still  place  of  coolness  and  odours.  The 
odours  come  blended  from  everywhere,  from  the 
black  earth,  stained  green  with  moss  here  and 
there,  and  always  damp — as  in  a  cellar — from  the 
rows  of  great  lilac  bushes  that  stand  along  the 
high  street  walls — when  the  lilacs  are  in  flower 
the  perfume  is  well-nigh  stupefying — from  the 
chestnuts  and  acacias  that  stand  severely  arow  up 
and  down  the  garden,  their  trunks  black  and 
smooth  with  years  ;  from  the  mignonette  and  little 
spice  pinks  and  red  single  roses  that  fill  the  round 
beds  at  the  corners  of  the  walls.  There  is  a  gravel 
walk  down  through  the  middle  of  all,  with  a  border 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      41 

of  little  whitened  stones,  and  another  path  that 
runs  around  the  enclosure  under  the  walls. 

In  the  very  centre  is  the  fountain,  of  marble.  It 
was  white,  once,  and  fine  with  scrolls  and  orna 
mentation,  but  the  marble  is  stained  yellow  and 
green  with  age,  and  the  carved  vines  and  leaves 
and  fruit  are  broken.  A  living  vine  twists  and 
clings  triumphantly  where  the  sculptor's  challenged 
admiration  so  long  ago.  Doubtless  the  new  vine 
is  the  better  one.  The  carved  stone  margin  of  the 
basin  is  cracked  too  and  stained,  roots  have  forced 
their  way  between  the  joints,  and  moss  has  filled 
the  bottom  of  the  pool,  but  that  doesn't  matter 
so  much,  for  only  a  gurgling  spurt  of  water  trickles 
down  from  the  fount  nowadays. 

Even  the  marble  seats,  that  stand  in  a  broken 
circle  about  the  fountain,  are  stained,  cracked  and 
broken,  and  the  sundial,  uplifted  near  by  on  its 
pedestal,  is  hidden  in  a  mass  of  vines. 

You  might  sit  here  all  the  day  long,  if  you  liked, 
bathing  yourself  in  the  yellow  sunshine  that  seems 
always  warm  but  never  hot,  or  hiding  under  the 
cool  green  shade,  breathing  in  a  fragrance  exquisite, 
aromatic,  a  blended  essence  of  all  delightful  smells ; 
and  you  would  be  as  utterly  out  of  the  world,  as 
far  away  from  its  noise  and  hurry  and  strife  as  if 
you  were  alone  in  the  Hesperides.  It  would  be 
still,  of  a  stillness  unbelievable !  No  sounds  would 
reach  you  from  over  those  high  stone  walls  but  the 
toot  of  a  passing  tram,  the  tinkle  of  its  bell,  the 


42      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

whistle  of  a  street  gamin,  the  bell  from  a  near-by 
chapel ;  and  these  made  somehow  thin  and  faint  as 
if  from  a  great  distance,  unreal  and  alien. 

Ah,  it 's  a  good  old  place  1  A  quaint  old  sweet 
old  place,  the  great  green  convent  garden  by  the 
Boulevard  Kaspail ! 


Sir  Gavin  and  young  Denis  Mallory  stood  in  the 
grey  stone  porch,  a  beautiful  old  crumbling  Gothic 
porch,  of  what  had  been  the  refectory  of  the  con 
vent.  Young  Mallory  was  a  bit  haggard  from  the 
night  before,  a  bit  pale  and  drawn  as  to  the  cheeks, 
and  black  as  to  the  eyes,  but  otherwise  quite  him 
self  ;  an  earlier  self,  one  would  have  said.  There 
was  a  something  of  boyishness  about  him,  a  some 
thing  of  eagerness,  a  light  in  the  eye ;  and  his  hand 
was  not  quite  steady. 

"  Ye  '11  be  careful,  lad,"  warned  MacKenzie. 
"  Remember  always  that  she 's  in  a  nervous  state  so 
extreme  that  it's  nigh  hysteria.  Ye '11  be  cau 
tious." 

"  Aye,"  said  young  Mallory,  impatiently.  "  Aye, 
have  n't  I  been  coached  for  two  hours  ?  I  'm  letter 
perfect."  And  his  eyes  strayed  down  the  length  of 
the  garden  below  them. 

MacKenzie  heaved  a  great  sigh. 

"  God  knows,"  said  he,  shaking  his  great  head. 
"  God  knows.  Eh,  well,  be  off  with  ye,  an'  have  it 
over." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      43 

Young  Mallory  went  down  the  gravel  path  be 
tween  the  great  chestnut-trees. 

It  was  one  of  those  unseasonably  warm  after 
noons  that  come  sometimes  at  the  end  of  April  or 
early  in  May,  a  heat  that  forewarns  the  approach 
ing  summer,  that  makes  the  sunshine  oppressive, 
draws  the  young  leaves  from  their  twigs  almost 
while  one  watches  them. 

It  had  brought  the  sticky  buds  of  the  chestnut 
into  flower  all  in  a  day,  so  that  their  fragrance, 
heavy  and  tropical,  mingled  with  that  of  the  pass 
ing  lilacs,  filled  all  the  great  high  walled  garden 
with  scent.  It  was  like  a  greenhouse. 

Something  moved,  down  among  the  trees  and 
shrubs  beyond  the  fountain,  something  red  and 
white,  and  young  Mallory's  heart  gave  a  sudden 
leap.  Then  in  a  moment  he  was  before  her. 

She  faced  him,  half  startled,  breathing  quickly. 
She  was  tall,  very  tall,  and  moved  regally,  like  a 
queen,  in  her  white  gown  and  long  crimson  cloak. 
I  fancy  one  saw  her  eyes  first — after  the  majesty  of 
her  bearing.  They  were  blue,  a  clouded  purplish 
blue,  like — like  nothing  else  in  the  world,  southern 
seas,  maybe,  Italian  lakes, — midnight  skies  when 
she  was  troubled  or  thoughtful — very  long,  and  at 
times  wide,  and  deep  set  under  straight  level  brows. 
She'd  a  slender  straight  little  nose,  high  bridged, 
and  tip  tilted — oh  the  very  littlest  bit  in  the  world ! 
She'd  a  mouth  all  soft  curves,  drooping  at  the 
corners,  its  upper  lip  quite  absurdly  short  and  curled 


44      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

outward,  and  overhanging  greatly  the  lower  one  I 
Her  chin — it  was  an  English  chin,  I  protest,  not  an 
American  one — was  pointed  and  clean  cut  and  set 
forward  prominently  over  the  loveliest  full  throat 
that  a  sculptor  could  fancy.  And  her  hair  was 
brown,  a  waving,  crinkly  brown,  save  where  the  sun 
fell  upon  it.  There  it  was  red  bronze,  a  living  fire. 
It  was  parted  somewhere  at  one  side,  and  heaped 
over  her  brows,  and  a  great  knot  of  it  hung  at  the 
back  of  her  neck.  Ah,  but  there  are  no  words  for 
the  sumptuous  loveliness  of  her !  for  the  poise  of 
her  beautiful  head,  for  the  lithe  sway  of  her  round 
waist.  She  was  slender,  I  'd  have  you  know,  slen 
der  of  waist,  but  very  broad  in  the  shoulders,  as 
out  of  door  young  women  sometimes  are,  deep 
bosomed  and  flat  backed,  pink  as  a  rosy  goddess, 
save  when  she  was  ill  and  suffering. 

She  showed  her  late  desperate  illness  but  little, 
outwardly.  She  was  a  bit  pale,  and  her  hands  and 
cheeks  were  thinner  than  their  wont — as  we  learned 
afterward, — but  they  were  so  perfectly  modelled, 
so  wonderful  in  line  and  contour  that  they  suffered 
for  the  lack  of  roundness  hardly  at  all.  There  were 
faint  dark  circles  under  her  eyes  too.  They  showed 
when  she  turned  her  head  a  bit,  and  looked  away. 

Her  head  was  bent,  now,  eyes  under  cover,  and 
the  stormy  breathing  would  not  be  hidden.  Young 
Mallory  stood  before  her  quite  motionless — as  for 
his  breathing  it  had  quite  ceased  long  since,  but  his 
eyes  devoured  her,  feasted  upon  every  gorgeous  line 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      45 

and  tint,  revelled  there.  I  think  that  in  that 
moment  all  his  promises  and  plans,  all  he  had  come 
to  the  garden  to  perform,  all  the  plot  and  deception 
that  had  been  woven  about  the  girl  before  him, 
went  in  a  flash  from  his  mind,  and  he  thought,  if 
his  brain  acted  at  all,  only  of  the  wonderful  beauty 
and  loveliness  of  her,  only  that  she  was  cruelly 
beset  by  fate,  helpless  in  a  net  that  she  might  not 
see  ;  and  that  he  must  free  her  somehow,  if  it  cost 
his  life  to  do  so. 

They  stood  so,  motionless,  not  speaking  for  a  long 
time,  till  at  last  young  Mallory  forced  his  eyes  from 
her  face  and  held  out  his  hands. 

"  Eleanor  !  "  said  he  in  that  deep  tender  voice  of 
his.  "  Eleanor ! "  No  one  could  resist  Mallory 
when  he  spoke  like  that.  No  one  could  be  afraid 
or  distrustful  or  cold.  Alas,  it 's  a  wise  provision 
of  Providence  that  we  have  n't  all  such  voices. 

The  girl  raised  her  head  with  a  little  low  nervous 
laugh  and  put  her  hands  quickly  into  his. 

"  Ah,  you  've — you  've  come  at  last !  "  she  cried 
softly.  "  It 's— really— you  ?  " 

She  had  given  him  but  the  swiftest  glance  when 
he  came  down  the  gravel  path  toward  her,  but  now 
her  great  eyes  searched  him,  wide  with  a  certain 
breathless  eagerness — with  a  certain  half  frightened, 
timidity,  wondering  a  little.  She  searched  him 
through  and  through. 

Young  Mallory  drew  the  two  slim  hands  to 
gether  in  his  and  stroked  them  gently.  There  was 


46      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

a  little  steady  smile  upon  his  lips.  No  one  could 
resist  Mallory  when  he  smiled  like  that.  No  one 
could  be  afraid  or  distrustful  or  cold.  The  girl's 
lips  curved  to  the  faintest  answering  smile,  but  her 
eyes  never  left  his. 

"  "Well  ?  "  said  young  Mallory  presently,  "  will  I 
do,  Eleanor  ?  " 

The  girl  gave  another  little  nervous  laugh  and 
drew  her  hands  away. 

"  I — I  'm  afraid  you  '11  have  to  do,  won't  you  ?  " 
said  she.  "  It  is  n't  quite  a  matter  of  choice,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  young  Mallory  very  gently.  "  Yes, 
it  is  a  matter  of  choice,  Eleanor.  I  'm  not  quite  a 
brute,  you  know."  He  had  an  indistinct  notion 
that  this  was  not  playing  the  game  at  all  as  he  was 
supposed  to  play  it.  "What  if  she  should  take  him 
at  his  word  and  send  him  away  ?  But  he  put  the 
notion  aside  quite  calmly.  It  seemed  not  to  weigh 
with  him  at  all. 

"  Why  as  for — as  for  that,"  said  the  girl  looking 
down  again,  "  I  'm  not  disappointed,  you  know,  not 
a  bit.  Ah,  I  'm  glad  you  're  so  big  !  "  she  cried  and 
smiled  up  at  him.  "  I — was  afraid  you  might  be 
little  and — fat.  I  hate  fat  people  !  "Why,  I  have  to 
look  up  to  you,  have  n't  I  ?  And  I  'm  very  tall,  as 
tall  as  a  great  many  of  the  men  I  've  known. 
You  're  not  a  bit  what  I  'd  fancied  and — made  men 
tal  pictures  of.  Ah,  is  n't  it  all  wonderful,  Karl  ?  " 

"  Karl  ?  Karl  ?  "  said  young  Mallory  to  himself 
in  a  puzzled  tone.  "  What  does  she  mean  by 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      47 

Oh,  of  course !  Karl,  of  course  !  Keep  your  wits 
about  you,  you  ass !  " 

"  I  wonder  if  fate  ever  played  such  a  strange 
trick  upon  a  girl  before.  I  wonder  why  fate  chose 
me  ?  "  She  moved  slowly  over  to  one  of  the  moss 
stained  marble  benches  that  stood  near  the  foun 
tain,  and  sank  down  upon  it.  Young  Mallory  sat 
near  her. 

"  It  was  a  cruel  trick,"  she  went  on,  "  ingeniously 
cruel !  Fancy  a  girl  married  to  a  man  whom  she 
does  n't  remember  ever  to  have  seen  or  heard  of ! 
It  would  be  funny,  would  n't  it,  if  it  were  n't  ter 
rible?" 

"  Terrible  ?  "  smiled  Denis  Mallory. 

The  girl  threw  out  her  hand  with  a  deprecating 
little  laugh. 

"  Ah,  you  know  what  I  mean,  do  n't  you  ?  "  she 
cried.  "  It  is  n't  you  that 's  terrible,  it 's  the  whole 
affair,  the  strangeness  of  it,  the  pitifulness  of  it — I 
know  I  'm  your  wife,  Karl,  but — do  n't  you  see  that 
I  can't  feel  like  it  ?  Do  n't  you  see  that  you  're  an 
utter  stranger  to  me,  that  whatever  I  may  have 
known  of  you — cared  for  you,  there  at  home,  it 's 
simply  wiped  away,  made  as  if  it  never  had  been  ? 
You  '11  have  to  be  very  good  to  me,  Karl,  very  pa 
tient  and  gentle  and — forbearing.  You  will  have 
to  let  me  like  you — care  for  you,  all  over  again." 

"  If  that  is  possible,"  said  young  Denis  Mallory 
very  low. 

"  Why  yes — yes,  of  course,"  said  she  slowly,  "  if 


48      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

that  is  possible I  think — I  think  it 's  more 

than — possible,"  said  the  Princess  Eleanor,  turning 
her  beautiful  head  away  from  him.  Then  in  a  mo 
ment  she  looked  up  laughing. 

"  Why,  I  believe  you  were  trying  to  trap  me  into 
saying  something  pretty  to  you  ! "  she  cried.  "  You 
were  fishing !  The  idea  of  your  trying  to  flirt  with 
me!"  She  regarded  him  meditatively  with  her 
head  on  one  side. 

"  I  do  n't  know  that  I  mind  being  flirted  with," 
said  the  Princess  Eleanor.  "  Men  used  to  flirt  with 
me — lots." 

"  Beasts !  "  growled  young  Mallory,  and  the  Prin 
cess  laughed. 

"  Tiens,  jealous  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Oh,  mon  Prince  ! " 
and  she  beat  her  small  hands  together  delightedly. 

"  I  'm  jealous  of  every  man  who  ever  saw  you," 
said  young  Mallory,  and  indulged  in  a  wholly  hon 
est  and  quite  portentous  scowl. 

"  You  need  n't  be,"  said  the  girl.  She  leaned  to 
ward  him,  a  little,  on  the  old  stone  bench,  and  put 
up  her  two  hands  upon  his  shoulders.  The  great  blue 
eyes  searched  him — as  before,  through  and  through. 

"Never  mind  the  other  men,  Karl,"  said  she. 
"There's  no  other  man  that  counts.  Upon  my 
faith,  there  is  n't.  I  'm  married  to  you  and  I  shall 
be  true  to  you — always.  Only — give  me  time,  time 
to  know  you  better,  to  care  for  you  as  I  ought  be 
fore  I  come  to  Novodnia  with  you.  You  may  see 
me,  like  this,  every  day — you  will,  won't  you  ? 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      49 

Flirt  with  me,  Karl,  make  love  to  me,  make  me  care 
for  you.  I — I  think  I  've  never  known  any  man 
who  could  make  me  care  so  much  as  you  could. 
Ah,  if  I  only  could  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  that 
you  're — what  you  are,  big  and  strong  and — tender 
— the  sort  of  man  a  girl  loves !  I  've  been  hideously 
worried  and  ill  and  all  that  because  you  didn't 
come  to  me  sooner.  I — I  thought  they  were  keep 
ing  you  from  me.  Oh,  I  'd  all  sorts  of  dreadful  sus 
picions — but  you  're  here  now,  and  I  'm  to  see  you 
every  day,  am  I  not  ?  You  shall  see  how  soon  I  '11 
be  well  and  strong  once  more.  Please  do  n't  look 
so  solemn  and  sad  over  it.  Smile  at  me  again, 
Karl,  you  've  the  kindest,  dearest  smile  I  ever  saw. 
It  makes  one  so  comfortable !  It  makes  one  see 
how  tender  and  true  you  are  and  how  utterly  one 
may  trust  you." 

Mallory  shrank  away  from  the  two  clinging 
hands  and  the  great  blue  eyes.  His  face  was  crim 
son. 

"Ah,  you  make  me  feel  a  brute,  Eleanor!"  he 
cried  miserably.  "  A  blackguard  ! " 

But  the  girl  laughed. 

"  You,  a  brute  ? "  said  she,  "  you,  a  blackguard, 
Karl  ?  Do  n't  be  silly — why  of  course  I  know  that 
a  man  is  n't — is  n't  quite  like  a  girl,  you  know.  He 
has  a  rougher  life  to  live.  He  has  to  see  things 
and  to  know  about  things  that  a  girl  never  hears 
of,  but — a  blackguard  ?  You  have  n't  a  black 
guard's  smile,  my  Prince,  nor  a  blackguard's  eyes. 

4 


50      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

No,  I  think  I  can  trust  you.  The  only  witness 
against  the  prisoner  is  prejudiced  by  a  most  uncom 
mon  modesty. — Not  Guilty,  Sir.  That's  the  ver 
dict.  The  jury  did  n't  have  even  to  leave  its  box." 

She  leaned  back  against  the  black  smooth  trunk 
of  a  chestnut  that  stood  behind  the  stone  bench, 
and  rested  her  head  there,  face  upward  to  the  warm 
sunshine  that  came  flooding  through  the  new  leaves 
and  interlaced  branches  above,  bathed  her  in  a 
golden  glory  splashed  with  shadows.  Mallory 
turned  his  eyes  away. 

"  Have  n't  you  anything  to  say  to  me  at  all  ? " 
complained  the  Princess  after  a  time. 

"  Eh  what  ? — Oh  yes,  yes !  "  said  Mallory  pulling 
himself  together  with  a  jerk.  He  ventured  another 
glance  at  the  upturned  face  in  its  flood  of  mellow 
sunlight  and  looked  quickly  away  again. 

"  I  've  so  much  to  say,"  he  declared,  "  that  I 
do  n't  know  where  to  begin  and  what  to  tell  you 
first.  I  want  to  tell  you  a  great  deal  about  you, 
what  you  look  like  and  all  that,  you  know,  but  I 
must  n't.  You  said  I  must  begin  gently — I  '11  tell 
you  that  to-morrow — or  next  week  maybe." 

"  You — you  might  forget  by  that  time,''  ventured 
the  Princess  wistfully.  "  Could  n't  you — begin  it — 
now — very,  very  gently,  you  know.  Not  that  it 
matters,  of  course  !  "  she  protested  with  some  haste. 
"  I  dare  say  I  look  very  much  like  other  women — 
do  n't  I?" 

"  No  you  do  n't,"  said  young  Mallory,  "  you  know 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      51 

quite  well  that  you  do  n't.  You  're  the — you  're  the 
most  gor — no,  I  'm  hanged  if  I  '11  tell — not  to-day — 
besides,  I  could  n't  if  I  should  try." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  the  Princess  loftily,  "  if  you 
want  to  be  disagreeable  about  it,  you  may.  Tell  me 

why  you  did  n't  come  to  me  sooner.  I  thought 

Oh  I  thought  all  sorts  of  mad  things.  They  kept 

putting  me  off  from  day  to  day,  Dr.  Mac ,  Sir 

Gavin  MacKenzie  and  the  others.  I  could  n't  fancy 
what  was  the  matter." 

Mallory  took  a  long  breath  of  relief.  This  was  safer. 

"  "Why  you  see,"  said  he,  "  the  country  has  been 
in  a  shocking  state  lately  and  I  could  n't  leave  it. 
My  accession  brought  up  a  row  of  old  standing,  and 
I  'd  a  hard  time  keeping  the  throne  under  me.  It 's 
all  the  fault  of  those  beasts  of  Pavelovitches. 
They  're,  in  a  way,  pretenders  to  the  throne,  you 
know,  and  they  're  Pan-Slavists,  which  means  that 
they  're  ready  to  lick  the  Czar's  boots  if  he  crooks 
his  finger.  What  we  want  in  Novodnia  is  independ 
ence,  no  Russian  patronage  nor  Austrian  either. 
"We  've  always  been  and  always  must  be  independ 
ent  like  Roumania,  or  like  Bulgaria  was  before 
they  slaughtered  old  Stambolof.  That 's  the  policy 
of  our  house  and  that 's  what  I  've  been  struggling 
to  maintain.  It 's  no  easy  matter. 

"Now  that,"  he  continued  inwardly,  "that  is 
what  I  call  a  very  excellent  and  patriotic  little 
speech — f or  a  chap  who 's  never  been  nearer  Novod- 
nia  than  Belgrade." 


52      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

But  the  Princess  seemed  not  greatly  impressed  or 
even  interested. 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  admitted,  "  all  that  sounds  very 
political  and  desperate  and  shivery  but  still  I  do  n't 
see  why  you  could  n't  have  left  your  friends  to  do 
that  for  you.  Now  if  /  'd  recently  married  a  girl 
and  she  was  terribly  ill,  in  danger  of  her  life,  in 
deed,  I  think  I  'd  manage  to  leave  politics  for  a 
while  and  go  to  her.  Of  course  I  do  n't  know  what 
Pan-Slavists  are,  and  why  Bulgaria  and  Koumania 
aren't  just  alike,  but  it  seems  to  me  they  might 
have  been  civil  enough  to  wait  till  you  could  come 
back." 

"  Oh  Lord ! "  groaned  Mallory  in  despair.  "  Com 
mend  me  to  a  woman  for  an  appreciation  of  prac 
tical  affairs !  Politics,  Eleanor  ?  Politics !  Do 
you  think  this  thing  is  a  New  York  municipal  elec 
tion  ?  Do  you  know  what  would  happen  if  I  were 
to  lose  down  there?  It  would  be  war,  war! 
There  'd  be  a  small  detachment  of  Kussian  troops 
quietly  hustled  over  the  border ;  that  Pavelovitch 
swine  would  be  set  in  my  seat  and  I  'd  be — buried 
with  my  fathers.  You'd  make  an  interesting 
widow,  Eleanor." 

But  the  Princess  gave  a  little  cry  of  alarm  and 
her  eyes  were  very  wide  and  round. 

"  Oh,  is  it  so  serious  as  that  ?  "  she  demanded. 
"Ah,  forgive  me,  Karl!  I — I  didn't  know — I 
didn't  realise  what  it  meant.  War? — and  you 
killed  ?  Ah,  be  careful,  Karl,  do  n't  run  risks  unless 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      53 

you  have  to.  You've  some  one  else  to  think  of 
now,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  God  bless  her,"  said  young  Mallory.  "  And 
I  'm  thinking  of  her  always,  Eleanor,  but  I  've  my 
country  to  think  of  first,  you  know.  I  must  do 
what  I  was  brought  into  the  world  to  do,  cost  what 
it  may.  Did  you  think  I  stopped  down  there  away 
from  you  because  I  wanted  to  ?  Novodnia  comes 
first,  because  I  'm  first  a  ruler — a  man  after 
ward. 

"'Yet  this  inconstancy  is  such,'"  he  quoted, 
laughing  a  little,  "'As  thou  too  shalt  adore.  I 
could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much,  loved  I  not — 

loved  I '"  And  he  paused,  stammering,  and 

turned  his  face  away  with  a  sudden  fierce  passion 
of  hatred  for  all  this  contemptible  deception,  storm 
ing  within  him. 

"'Loved  I  not  honour  more,'"  said  the  Prin 
cess  Eleanor  softly.  "  Ah,  that 's  like  you,  Karl ! 
'  Loved  I  not  honour  more.'  Honour 's  first,  is  n't 
it?  I'd  not  hold  you  back  when  honour  called 
you.  I  'd  not  even  wish  you  back,  for  I  know  that 
your  honour  is  the  dearest  thing  in  the  world  to 
you — you  're  that  sort  of  man,  thank  God.  You  'd 
never  fail  in  a  duty,  nor  take  an  unfair  advantage 
nor  play  a  man  or  a  woman  a  low  trick.  See  how 
much  I  've  learned  of  you  in  an  hour,  my  Prince !  " 

But  young  Mallory  sprang  to  his  feet,  teeth  and 
hands  clenched. 

"  By  my  faith,  Eleanor ! "  he  cried  in  an  agony, 


54      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  I  won't  let  you  think  such  things  of  me !  I  won't 
have  you  so  impos " 

"  Karl ! "  said  the  Princess  Eleanor,  and  young 
Mallory  bit  his  words  in  two.  She  rose  to  her  feet 
and  came  around  to  face  him,  putting  a  hand  upon 
his  breast. 

Her  great  eyes  met  his,  clouded  a  little,  anxious 
and  pained,  full  for  an  instant  of  a  trembling  doubt, 
but  she  shook  her  head,  smiling  confidently  into 
his  face,  and  dropped  the  hand  by  her  side. 

"  Do  n't  frighten  me,  Karl,"  she  said.  "  I — I  'm 
not  quite  strong  enough  yet,  you  know,  and  my 
nerves  have  a  nasty  way  of  giving  out  at  times. 
It's  like  you  to  think  poorly  of  yourself,  but 
don't  think  too  poorly,  for  that's  as  bad  as  the 
other  extreme.  Come  and  take  a  little  walk,  rnon 
Prince ;  I  'm  cold,  just  the  least  bit,  from  sitting 
still.  "We  '11  walk  around  the  gravel  path  under  the 
walls." 

Mallory  shook  his  head  as  if  he  would  free  him 
self  from  some  load  that  was  there,  and  squared  his 
shoulders. 

"  Forgive  me,  Eleanor,"  said  he.  "  Did  I  startle 
you  ?  I  must  n't  do  that,  must  I  ?  For  you  're  not 
well  yet,  not  by  a  good  deal.  That  makes  a  great 
difference,  does  n't  it  ?  "  He  spoke  somehow  as  if 
he  were  arguing  with  himself.  "  Come,  we  '11 
walk.  We  shall  have  a  carpet  of  lilac  blossoms  to 
walk  over  instead  of  gravel.  See  how  fast  they 
are  falling ! " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      55 

Indeed,  as  they  walked,  they  walked  in  a  rain  of 
tiny  lavender  blossoms.  A  puff  of  breeze  from  over 
the  wall's  coping,  the  touch  of  an  elbow  to  a 
slender  branch,  brought  a  fragrant  shower. 

"My  hair  is  loaded  with  petals,"  cried  the 
Princess  Eleanor.  "It's  like  confetti  on  Mi 
Car£me.  Brush  them  out,  Karl."  She  bent  her 
head  to  him  with  a  sudden  little  gesture  like  a  child 
having  its  hair  done.  Indeed,  despite  her  height 
and  regal  bearing,  she  was  full  of  little  unexpected 
childish  tricks,  infinitely  dear. 

Mallory's  fingers  did  their  bidding  but  ill.  They 
lingered  in  the  soft  bronze  waves,  touched  them 
caressingly,  but  trembled  there,  helpless.  And  he 
drew  his  hands  away  with  a  quick  exclamation. 

«  Ah,  Eleanor ! "  he  cried,  "  I— I  can't ! " 

The  Princess  moved  past  him  quickly,  her  head 
still  bent  very  low.  When  he  came  up  behind  her, 
her  cheeks  were  flaming. 

They  passed  under  the  one  little  window  in  the 
wall,  at  the  base  of  the  garden,  the  window  in 
Mallory's  studio.  He  glanced  up  at  it  instinctively. 
Eager  faces  gleamed  through  the  parting  of  the 
curtains,  arms  waved,  fingers  beckoned. 

"What  the  deuce  is  up?"  wondered  young 
Mallory. 

Then  aloud, 

"  MacKenzie  said  I  was  to  keep  you  out  but  a 
little  while  to-day,  Eleanor;  I  suppose  you  ought 
to  be  going  in.  It's  growing  a  bit  cooler.  We 


56      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

mustn't  forget  that  you're  not  strong,  must 
we?" 

"Ah,  no,"  said  she,  "we  mustn't  forget  that — 
though  I  shall  be  strong  as  ever,  soon.  Yes,  I 
suppose  I  must  go  in.  Will  you  come  to  the  door 
with  me,  Karl  ?  Oh,  has  n't  it  been  a  beautiful 
day !  And  is  n't  our  garden  perfect !  You  '11  come 
to-morrow,  won't  you  ?  I — I  shall  be  waiting  for 
you.  Why,  here 's  Jess  !  My  Cousin  Jessica,  you 
know — of  course  you  do  know,  though.  You  must 

have  met  her  at  Newport  at  our — our Oh, 

Karl,  Karl,  our  wedding  !  " 

The  dark  haired  young  girl,  waiting  under  the 
grey  Gothic  porch,  gave  Mallory  her  hand,  and  said, 
"  Oh  yes,  of  course,  they  had  met  at  Newport,"  but 
she  looked  into  his  eyes  very  gravely,  questioningly, 
as  if  she  would  measure  him. 

"  She  knows,"  said  Mallory  to  himself.  "  She 's 
in  it  too,  then."  The  girl  moved  close  to  his  side 
as  the  Princess  passed  up  the  steps. 

"  They  're  waiting  for  you  in  your  rooms,"  she 
whispered.  "  Go  there  at  once  ! " 

Mallory  went  quickly  down  through  the  garden 
and  stood  again  under  the  window.  MacKenzie, 
von  Altdorf  and  I  were  waiting  above,  and  I 
reached  out  an  arm  to  pull  him  up  to  the  ledge. 
Then  the  four  of  us  sat  down  about  the  room  and 
stared  into  one  anothers'  faces.  Three  of  us,  I 
know,  were  very  pale  and  a  bit  breathless.  Young 
Mallory  looked  tired,  worn,  as  if  he  had  been 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      57 

through  some  great  strain,  and  had  come  into  its 
consequent  relaxation.  He  seemed  not  particularly 
to  notice  our  excitement  or  indeed  our  presence. 

MacKenzie  made  a  motion  of  his  hand  to  Colonel 
von  Altdorf  and  that  gentleman  turned  to  young 
Mallory. 

"  Now,  God  help  us  all,  Mr.  Mallory,"  said  he, 
"  for  Prince  Karl  has — Heaven  knows  how — eluded 
his  officers  and  gentlemen  and  is  on  his  way  to 
Paris — do  you  hear,  man  ?  The  Prince  ia  on  his 
way  to  Paris  !  " 


CHAPTER  IV 

"     Jl     H  ?  "  said  young  Mallory  absently.    I  sup- 

Zjk    pose  he  had  heard  the  words,  but  upon  my 

JL    JL  faith  I  do  n't  believe  they  had  conveyed  to 

his  mind  anything  at  all.     He  rose  from  the  broad 

divan  where  he  had  been  sitting,  and  moved  over  to 

the    little  turkish  table  littered   with  pipes  and 

cigarette  boxes  and  tins  of  tobacco,  and  he  chose  a 

battered  old  briar  which  he  filled  and  lighted  with 

great  deliberation. 

"Look  you,  gentlemen,"  said  he  facing  us  at  last, 
pipe  in  hand,  "  before  this — this  enterprise  of  ours 
goes  any  further,  I  wish  to  correct  the  footing  upon 
which  we — upon  which  I  stand.  Last  evening  I 
agreed  to  do  my  part  for — a  money  consideration. 
I  didn't  realise  as  well  as  I  do  now,  what  the 
thing  implied.  I  was  even — intoxicated.  I  wish 
you  clearly  to  understand  that  there  is  to  be  no 
question  of  money  between  us.  God  knows  the 
trick  we  play  is  low  enough  without  soiling  it 
further.  I  play  my  hand  in  it  because  it  seems  to 
me  there  is  nothing  else  to  be  done.  The  trick 
must  be  played  but  let  there  be  no  money  about 
it." 

I  caught  von  Altdorf 's  eyes  searching  for  mine. 
They  were  very  bright  and  he  nodded  his  head  and 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      59 

smiled.  I  thought  of  his  words  of  the  night  before, 
under  the  awning  of  the  Cafe  d'Alenpon,  when  I 
had  said  that  I  wished  I  'd  shaken  hands  with  Mal- 
lory.  "  You  '11  wish  that  more  heartily  still  before 
the  last  card 's  played.  Yonder 's  a  man." 

But  our  immediate  and  pressing  danger  made 
everything  else  seem  of  little  moment. 

"  Aye,  aye,  lad ! "  cried  old  MacKenzie,  impa 
tiently.  "  As  ye  like  !  But  God  in  Heaven,  have 
ye  not  heard  ?  The  Prince  is  comin'  to  Paris  and 
can't  be  stopped  !  " 

Young  Mallory  dropped  suddenly  into  a  chair 
and  his  teeth  shut  with  a  click.  All  his  face  seemed 
to  sharpen,  whiten,  grow  in  an  instant  fierce  and 
ready. 

"  The  Prince — coming — to  Paris  ?  "  he  said  in  a 
slow  whisper.  The  first  white  fierceness  of  his 
*ace  passed,  the  animal  at  bay  and  ready  to  fight, 
and  he  seemed  to  be  thinking  deeply.  I  learnt  to 
know  that  pose  later  on,  body  sprawled  out  over 
the  chair,  knees  apart,  hands  clasping  and  relaxing, 
chin  on  breast,  and  those  deep  eyes  of  his  wide  and 
staring  out  into  vacancy  under  level  brows. 

But  presently  his  lips  twitched  and  curved  from 
their  hard  line  into  a  smile,  and  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  laughing  as  if  something  amused  him  beyond 
words.  By  my  faith  there  was  little  humour  that 
the  rest  of  us  could  see  in  the  situation. 

"  Why,  now  !  "  he  cried,  laughing  still,  "  why 
that 's  more  like  it !  Now  it 's  to  be  a  game,  by 


60     THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Heaven !  not  just  deceiving  a  helpless  girl."  He 
looked  about  the  circle  of  our  glum  faces  and  burst 
into  a  roar  of  laughter,  stretching  his  arms  up  over 
his  head  as  if  he  saw  the  struggle  before  him  and 
gloried  in  it. 

"  Like  old  times,  by  Jove  !  "  he  cried.  "  Aye, 
it 's  to  be  a  game  !  A  game  worth  playing.  Come, 
come,  gentlemen,  have  you  all  lost  your  last  dear 
relative  on  earth  ?  Buck  up,  buck  up  1 "  He 
clapped  von  Altdorf  upon  the  shoulder  gaily. 

"  Come,  Colonel,"  said  he,  "  you  in  the  mourning 
party  too  ?  Faith,  it 's  a  funeral !  Come,  have  we 
two  sat  at  our  ease  before  the  fire  all  our  lives  that 
we  should  turn  pale  and  groan  over  a  danger  ? 
Leave  that  to  our  friend  the  Birthday  Knight  and 
the  light  o'  society  here.  What  have  we  fought 
and  schemed  and  plotted  for  all  our  lives,  Colonel, 
if  we're  to  lie  down  at  the  first  hint  of  difficulty  ? 
Think  of  it !  A  game  to  play  !  We  've  played  be 
fore,  eh  Colonel  ?  Man,  man,  does  n't  it  make  your 
blood  tingle  ?  Where 's  your  spirit  ?  " 

He  stuck  the  old  briar  pipe  in  one  corner  of  his 
mouth  and  puffed  great  clouds  from  it.  His  face 
beamed  through  the  smoke.  His  eyes  were  wide 
and  joyous.  I  'd  never  seen  them  quite  the  same. 

And,  as  I  live,  there  was  von  Altdorf  on  his  feet 
too,  tugging  at  his  grizzled  moustache,  as  was  his 
way  when  excited.  His  eyes  twinkled  and  he  put 
out  his  hands  upon  young  Mallory's  shoulders  and 
shook  him  gently. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      61 

"  Aye,"  said  he.  "  Aye,  I  've  fought  and  schemed 
a  bit  in  my  time,  and  I  've  a  drop  of  blood  left  to 
jump  on  occasion.  Aye,  we've  played  before,  we 
two.  I  wish  we  'd  played  together,  for  by  my  faith 
in  God  you're  a  man  after  my  own  heart.  Let 
Karl  come  if  he  likes !  Saints  above !  His  wife 
sha'n't  see  him  till  she's  able,  if  I  have  to  carry 
him  back  to  Novodnia  under  my  arm  !  " 

Old  MacKenzie  scowled  and  twisted  in  his  chair. 

"  That 's  all  very  well,  ye  two  blood-thirsty  con- 
speerators,"  said  he.  "  But  what 's  to  be  done  ? 
When  ye  're  through  with  your  heroics  maybe  ye  '11 
condescend  to  look  at  the  danger  we  're  in." 

As  for  me  I  held  a  sulky  silence.  I  had  n't  rel 
ished  being  called  a  light  of  society. 

Mallory  dropped  into  a  chair  and  shook  his  head 
at  the  Scotsman  with  a  humorous  sigh. 

"  You  've  no  blood  in  your  body,  man,"  said  he, 
"  though  I  'm  not  denying  that  you  've  sense  in  your 
head.  And  now  to  business !  "Will  the  Prince 
come  alone  or  shall  we  have  a  half  dozen  to  deal 
with?" 

"  Oh,  he  '11  come  alone,"  said  von  Altdorf. 
"  Never  you  fear — though,  for  all  that,  it  would  n't 
surprise  me  if  half  a  dozen  should  follow  to  spy  out 
what  he 's  doing." 

"  And  they  '11  be ?  "  queried  Mallory. 

"  They  '11  be  enemies,  Eussian  jackals,  the  Czar's 
playthings,  damn  them ! "  snarled  von  Altdorf, 
"  only  waiting  their  chance  to  seat  their  George 


where  Prince  Karl  sits  now — or  should  be  sit 
ting.  God's  name  !  he 's  mad  to  leave  the  country 
at  such  a  time,  mad  !  " 

"  He  's  mad  for  love  of  his  wife,"  said  I,  "  and 
who 's  to  blame  him  ?  Have  n't  we  all  seen  her  ? 
"Wouldn't  any  one  of  us  leave  a  throne  for 
her  ?  " 

Von  Altdorf  struck  his  knee  a  resounding 
thwack. 

"  Love  !  "  he  cried.  "  Love  !  Shall  love  stand  be 
fore  the  welfare  of  a  nation,  man  ?  Shall  love 
wreck  a  state  ?  Is  there  no  such  thing  as  a  ruler's 
honour  and  duty  ?  I  say  he 's  mad  to  come  here  ! 
God  knows  I  'm  full  enough  of  pity  for  the  loveliest 
woman  I  ever  saw,  but  I  serve  the  Novodnian 
crown,  and  I  'd  serve  it  ill  to  countenance  Prince 
Karl's  leaving  his  throne  for  a  woman  who  can 
never  sit  by  his  side  there." 

"  Yet  she 's  his  Princess,  right  enough,"  said  I 
stubbornly. 

"  She 's  his  wife,"  said  von  Altdorf.  "  Princess 
by  courtesy,  if  you  like.  Yet  another  Princess 
there  must  be  in  time,  as  you  know,  or  the  crown 
goes  to  that  swine  George  and  his  litter." 

"  But  what 's  to  happen  eventually  ?  "  I  per 
sisted.  "  We  're  curing  a  present  ill — or  trying  to, 
but  what 's  to  happen  when  Madame,  here,  regains 
her  health  and  is  told  the  trick  we  've  played  upon 
her  ?  She  '11  be  the  Prince's  wife  still." 

Von  Altdorf  threw  up  his  hands. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      63 

"  God  knows,"  said  he.  "  It 's  out  of  our  hands. 
We  can't  see  beyond  our  present  business.  There 
might  be  a  divorce  arranged — even  against  the 
Prince's  will.  Madame  might  be  brought  to  see 
the  necessity  of  it.  Or  it 's  just  possible  that  she 
might  be  ennobled — though  that 's  almost  out  of  the 
question.  Do  n't  worry  us,  man.  The  future 's  the 
future,  and  its  problems  have  n't  to  be  met  till  to 
morrow.  To-day's  dangers  are  enough  to  busy  our 
hands.  Heaven  knows  it  would  have  been  simpler 
if  Madame  had  never  recovered  from  her  hurts, 
though  I  've  no  heart  for  saying  it.  What 's  before 
us  now,  is  to  keep  the  Prince  from  seeing  her,  for 
both  their  sakes — and  to  get  him  back  to  Novodnia 
as  soon  as  ever  we  may." 

Mallory  had  been  smoking  and  listening,  eyes 
half  closed,  and  a  thoughtful  crease  between  his 
brows. 

"  When  did  you  receive  the  message  saying  that 
he  'd  left  Novodnia  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  An  hour  ago,"  said  von  Altdorf.  "  It  was  sent 
last  night,  via  Belgrade,  of  course.  If  he  comes 
through  without  stopping — and  that's  what  he'll 
do  right  enough — he  will  be  here  in  three  days' 
travel.  To-day's  Tuesday,  isn't  it?  He  started 
yesterday  afternoon.  He  should  reach  Paris  Thurs 
day.  He  '11  probably  come  at  once  to  my  appart- 
ment  in  the  Avenue  de  1'Observatoire.  We  've  still 
two  days  to  make  ready,  you  see." 

"  It  would  n't  do,  I  suppose,"  suggested  Mallory, 


64      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  to  tell  him  that  the  Princess  has  gone  back  to 
America  ?  He  would  n't  believe  it,  eh  ?  " 

Yon  Altdorf  shook  his  head. 

"That  wouldn't  do  at  all — he'd  know  better. 
He  's  had  semi- weekly  reports  right  along  from 
MacKenzie.  He  knows  she 's  here  in  MacKenzie's 
care.  Besides,  if  he  were  really  convinced  that 
she  'd  gone  to  America,  upon  my  word  I  believe 
he'd  be  off  there  himself.  You  don't  know  the 
Prince.  When  he  sets  his  mind  upon  a  thing  he 's 
apt  to  get  it." 

"  He  won't  get  this,"  said  young  Mallory  shortly 
and  his  teeth  shut  again  with  a  click.  "  Ah  well,  I 
see  nothing  for  it  but  simply  to  refuse  to  let  him 
see  her,  to  tell  him  she  's  in  too  dangerous  a  state 
to  risk  a  shock.  It 's  a  poor  excuse  and  a  bold  one, 
but,  curse  it,  he 's  got  to  swallow  what  we  Ve  a 
mind  to  tell  him.  Perhaps  some  better  plan  will 
turn  up  meanwhile.  We  must  trust  something  to 

the  cards  as  they  're  dealt Egad,  we  might  do 

worse  than  to  kidnap  him  and  ship  him  back  to 
Novodnia,  as  von  Altdorf  here,  says,  under  some 
body's  arm." 

MacKenzie  grunted. 

"  I  observe,"  said  he  sourly,  "  a  certain  lack  o' 
timeedity  about  you,  lad.  Boldness  is  all  well 
enough,  but  man,  man,  descretion  's  the  better  part 
o'  valour.  Look  before  ye  leap  or  ye  may  land  in 
the  pit." 

"  God's  grace,  MacKenzie !  "  cried  young  Mallory 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      65 

with  a  laugh.  "  'T  is  the  pit  we  're  in  now  and  some 
great  leaping  it 's  going  to  take  to  win  out  o'  the 
same.  You  can't  see  the  ground  about,  when 
you  're  in  a  pit,  MacKenzie,  you  can  only  leap,  by 
the  grace  o'  God,  and  trust  to  your  luck  as  to  where 

you  land Ah  well !  enough  of  that.     What 's 

to  do  now  ?  Nothing  but  wait,  I  take  it.  Shall  we 
meet  here  to-morrow  at  this  time  ?  I  've  an  en 
gagement — by  your  leave — with  Madame  the  Prin 
cess  in  the  garden  at  three.  And  now  I  'm  for  my 
dinner.  Faith,  how  conspiracy  whets  a  man's 
appetite !  "Who 's  with  me  ?  " 
"  I  'm  with  you,"  said  I. 

5 


OHAPTEK  V 

WE  walked  over  to  the  Boulevard  St. 
Michel — it  was  on  the  edge  of  dark,  and 
the  streets  were  full  of  home-coming 
labourers  and  students  and  shop  girls — and  turned 
down  that  wicked  and  happy  thoroughfare  past  the 
darkened  portals  of  the  Bal  Bullier,  down  to  where 
the  cafe's  shone  resplendent  with  their  brilliantly 
lighted  terrasses,  and  where  one  had  to  elbow  one's 
way  through  a  packed  throng  of  swaggering  stu 
dents  and  ladies  of  a  pronounced  and  friendly 
bearing. 

The  good  old  Boul'  Miche' ! — your  pardon !  I 
would  say  the  bad  old  BouP  Miche'!  How  it 
comes  up  before  me  now,  though  I  like  to  pretend 
that  I  'm  grown  old  and  discreet  and  very  respecta 
ble,  and  done  with  such  follies.  How  it  comes  up 
before  me,  if  only  I  shut  my  eyes  and  forget  that 
I  'm  just  round  the  corner  from  Piccadilly,  lapped 
in  the  chastened  sobriety  of  London — that  I  'm  go 
ing  out  to  dine  presently  at  my  club  with  a  curate 

and  two  barristers Lights  and  chatter  and  the 

clink  of  glasses  upon  little  round  iron  tables,  dusk 
growing  to  darkness  out  beyond  in  the  street,  the 
clatter  of  hooves  that  strike  fire  from  the  paving 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      67 

stones,  a  huge,  ungainly  steam  tram  that  puffs  and 
pants  its  way  up  the  hill,  a  whiff  of  perfume  from 
the  trees  that  line  the  curb,  a  never-ending  throng 
of  students  crowding  past,  etudiants  and  etudiantes, 
bearded  students  and  mustachioed  students,  old  style 
students  with  long  beards  and  capes  and  soft  hats, 
smoking  their  queer  ugly  pipes — vieux  Jacobs — 
and  smarter,  newer  style  students  with  shining  hats 
and  padded  frock  coats,  smoking  cigarettes ;  Jews, 
Germans,  Kussians,  Greeks,  Negroes,  doctors,  law 
yers,  merchants,  thieves — and  ladies  with  pompa 
dours  and  a  ready  smile.  That  is  the  Boul'  Miche' ! 
There  's  no  care  there,  nor  worry  nor  thought  for 
the  morrow.  C'est  pas  trop  serieux,  voyez  vous, 
the  old  Boul'  Miche' !  Cares  have  been  left  in  the 
lecture  room  or  atelier  or  lodging.  One  drops  them 
with  a  shake  the  moment  one  steps  into  the  gay 
street.  One  digs  one's  hands  into  one's  pockets, 
one  puffs  a  devil-may-care  cloud  to  the  glooming 
skies,  and  moves  with  an  unconscious  swagger 
toward  one's  favourite  terrasse,  the  Pantheon,  or  the 
d'Harcourt  (alas!)  or  the  Source,  and  there  one 
settles  into  a  chair  behind  a  tiny  table  and  orders 
one's  absinthe,  Pernod  or  Cusenier,  one's  Turin 
bitter,  one's  sirop  a  1'eau  de  Seltz,  one's  vermouth 
sec,  and  lingers  over  it  through  the  "  green  hour  " 
listening  contentedly  to  the  chatter  about  one,  to 
the  calling  of  names,  Fifines  and  Saras  and  Maries 
and  Colettes ;  Georges  and  Alphonses  and  Eduards ; 
to  the  desperate  cries  of  overworked  waiters  who 


68      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

struggle  beneath  trays  of  glasses  or  hold  five  bot 
tles  by  the  necks  with  one  set  of  fingers. 

"Via  M'sieur!  v'la,  v'la!"  to  an  importunate 
customer,  "  versez,  versee  ez  1  "  to  the  "  omnibus  " 
who  pours  the  coffee  into  the  glass  they  have 
banged  down  before  you. 

Then,  later,  when  one  has  drained  the  last  drop 
of  one's  aperatif  and  paid  one's  seven  or  eight  sous, 
one  rises  lazily  and  makes  one's  way  arm  in  arm 
with  Georges  or  Eduard  or,  alas !  Fifine  or  Colette, 
to  one's  favourite  restaurant ;  "Wiber's,  where  the 
Chateaubriands  are  so  thick  and  juicy,  and  the 
Burgundy — that  Chambertin  at  four  francs  the 
pint — so  rich,  or  across  the  street  to  Boulant's,  or 
down  to  the  little  Duval,  or  even  over  the  river  to 
the  Palais  Koyal  arcades,  to  Larue's,  to  Marguery's, 
to  a  dozen  delightful  places. 

And  after  dinner,  why  it 's  all  to  do  over  again, 
the  sitting  at  a  terrasse  under  the  big  awning, 
though  over  a  coffee  and  a  liqueur  this  time,  till,  if 
it  be  a  Sunday  or  a  Thursday  or  a  Saturday  night, 
one  must  rise,  toward  ten  o'clock,  and  move  with 
the  throng  up  the  hill  far  up  past  the  lighted  cafes, 
to  the  Place  where  Marechal  Ney  waves  his  sword 
on  high,  and  where  the  great  sculptured  arch  stands 
over  the  portal  to  the  Bal  Bullier ;  then  under  the 
arch  and  down  upon  the  great  polished  floor  where 
Fifine  and  Colette  will  pull  at  your  coat  lapels  and 
beg  you  to  waltz  with  them,  a  1'Americain. 

Ah,  the  good  old  Boul'  Miche' ! — your  pardon  !  I 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      69 

would  say  the  bad  old  Boul'  Miche' !  It  brings  a 
rakish  gleam  to  the  eyes,  a  ribald  flush  to  the  cheek, 
of  a  certain  sedate  and  Britishly  respectable  old 
codger  who's  engaged  to  dine,  later  on,  with  a 
curate  and  two  barristers.  Helas !  he  'd  rather  dine 
at  Wiber's  with  Fifine  or  Colette — but  he  would  n't 
admit  it  to  the  curate. 

"We  stopped,  Mallory  and  I,  at  the  Cafe  du  Pan 
theon  and  after  some  trouble  found  a  vacant  table 
on  the  crowded  terrasse.  Quite  half  the  people  at 
the  tables  seemed  to  know  Denis  Mallory  and 
hailed  him  vociferously  with  outstretched  hands  or 
raised  glasses.  "St.  Denis"  they  called  him — I 

grievously  fear  it  was  in  irony Oh,  well,  there 

were  quite  enough  of  them,  dear  old  vagabonds, 
who  knew  me  as  well,  and  had  a  pet  name  for  me 
too.  I  may  n't  cavil  at  Mallory. 

He  took  absinthe,  Pernod,  in  spite  of  my  frown. 
I  remember  that  he  even  spoke  sharply  to  the 
waiter  for  pouring  him,  as  he  thought,  too  small  an 
allowance.  It  made  me  curse,  to  see  him  gulp 
down  the  half  of  it  without  lowering  his  glass. 

"We  went  on,  later,  down  to  Boulant's — because 
you  may  find  no  such  cancales  on  the  Boulevard  as 
at  Boulant's — where  that  majestic  personage,  the 
Dame  du  Comptoir,  had  a  welcoming  smile  for  us, 
and  for  Mallory  a  rallying  jest.  We  mounted  to 
one  of  the  smaller  rooms,  au  premier,  and  took  a 
table  in  the  corner.  Mallory's  greeting  to  the 


70      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

pleasing  young  person  in  the  red  hair  and  white 
apron  who  put  the  carte  before  us,  bespoke  an  ac 
quaintance  of  a  certain  intimacy.  And  we  ordered 
a  great  many  cancales,  those  queer,  yellow  oysters 
that  look  like  clams  and  taste  like  seaweed  and 
copper— one  grows  tremendously  keen  on  them, — 
and  a  filet  mignon  all  smothered  in  sauce  bearnaise, 
and  some  flageolets,  maitre  d'hotel — my  word,  I  can 
taste  them  now — and  a  wonderful  crisp  salad  of  let 
tuce  and  chicory,  with  cheese  to  come  after,  Pont 
PEveque,  and  coffee,  and  for  wine,  a  certain  strange 
and  delicious  vin  gris  de  Touraine  of  '82.  I  had  to 
quarrel  with  Mallory  over  this.  He  wanted  an 
atrociously  heavy  and  potent  Spanish  Pajarete  of 
'75,  a  veritable  syrop,  for  which  Boulant's  is 
famous. 

He  was  curiously  quiet  during  the  meal,  frown 
ing  and  distrait.  Nothing  could  rouse  him,  neither 
the  superexcellence  of  the  filet  mignon  nor  my 
attempts  at  wit.  He  drank  his  vin  gris  de  Touraine 
as  if  it  were  rouge  ordinaire  at  fifty  centimes  the 
litre,  never  sniffed  its  exquisite  bouquet  nor  closed 
his  eyes  in  content  over  its  keen  flavour.  Something 
seemed  weighing  upon  him,  depressing  him  beyond 
hope  of  recall. 

"  Come,  come,  man  ! "  said  I  in  despair,  "  I  've 
asked  you  a  question  twice  and  you've  stared 
through  me.  What 's  got  into  you  ?  An  hour  ago 
you  were  gay  enough,  Lord  knows !  Come,  wake 
up,  tell  us  your  troubles." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      71 

Mallory  pulled  himself  together  with  a  little 
shivering  jerk. 

"  Some  one  walking  over  my  grave  !  "  he  mut 
tered.  "  Eh,  lad  ?  eh  ?— Aye,  I  'm  a  bit  blue.  The 
devils  have  me,  papillons  noirs  1 — I  've  been  seeing 
things." 

"  Now,  by  heaven,"  said  I,  "  if  you  'd  just  see  us 
a  way  out  of  our  troubles,  while  you  're  at  it,  it 
would  be  jolly  worth  while.  Just  see  us  a  way  to 
win  our  game,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Win  ? "  said  Mallory  in  his  low,  dull  voice. 
"  Aye,  we  '11  win,  right  enough.  Never  fear  that, 
we'll  win. — We,  say  I? — You'll  win,  Creighton, 
man,  the  rest  of  you,  not  I,  by  my  soul !  I  never 
win,  I  've  no  luck.  You  '11  win,  but  I  '11  lose." 

And  to  that  I  found  nothing  to  reply,  for  as  I 
live,  I  saw  nothing  that  Denis  Mallory  might  win 
from  the  game.  If  he  won  his  hand  't  was  for  the 
Prince,  not  himself — and  I'd  not  seen  Mallory 's 
face  down  there  in  the  garden  with  Madame,  for 
nothing,  nor  when  he  was  told  that  Karl  was  on 
his  way  to  Paris. 

"  I  never  win,"  said  he  hopelessly,  fingering  the 
little  cheese  knife  that  lay  by  his  plate,  and  mark 
ing  with  it  upon  the  white  cloth. 

"  I  play  my  hand,  I  fight  my  battle  or  plot  my 
scheme  and  some  other  man  takes  the  prize.  I  Ve 
no  luck.  Look  you  !  You  know  what  I  've  done, 
why  am  I  not  rich  ?  Why  is  n't  my  coat  covered 
with  fool  little  jewelled  crosses?  I've  won  for- 


72      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

tunes  for  other  men  and  orders  for  their  breasts, 
but  no  fortune  for  my  pocket  and  no  ribbons  for 
my  buttonhole.  No,  I  've  no  luck." 

"  Oh,  as  for  that,"  said  I,  still  trying  to  cheer  him 
up,  "  what  are  any  of  us  to  win  out  of  this  busi 
ness  ?  We  're  in  it,  just  as  you  are,  to  save  a 
woman,  to  try  a  fall  with  Fate.  There 's  no  ques 
tion  of  our  getting  anything  out  of  it." 

But  he  would  n't  be  drawn. 

"  I  never  win,"  he  muttered  absently,  still  mark 
ing  with  the  little  knife  upon  the  cloth.  "  What 's 
the  use  of  playing  ?  " 

"  Why  none  !  "  said  I  in  a  cheery  tone.  "  None 
at  all !  Let 's  chuck  it  up !  It 's  a  sorry  business, 
let  it  take  care  of  itself,  chuck  it  up,  man,  chuck  it 
up!" 

That  drew  him  at  last. 

"  Chuck  it  up  ?  "  he  cried  savagely.  "  Not  while 
I  've  the  use  of  my  arms  and  legs !  Are  you  mad, 
Creighton  ?  Chuck  it  up  ?  Great  God  in  Heaven  ! 

if  I  thought  you  meant  that Ah,  come,  come, 

say  you  're  joking,  old  chap.  Do  n't  give  me  a  turn 
like  that,  do  n't  mind  me  if  I  talk  nonsense,  I  'm — 
down  on  my  luck.  Let 's  get  away  from  this  place. 
Have  you  finished?  My  faith,  I've  a  millstone 
about  my  neck  ! " 

"  Where  to  now  ?  "  I  asked  out  in  the  street. 

"  Home !  "  said  Mallory,  "  and  come  you  with  me, 
I  've  no  taste  for  cafe's  to-night." 

We  walked  all  the  way  to  the  rue  Boissonade  in 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      73 

silence.  Mallory,  it  was  quite  plain,  was  in  no  mood 
for  talk,  and  I  'd  no  mind  to  disturb  him. 

They  are  quaint  little  studios,  this  row  in  the 
rue  Boissonade.  They  sit  back  from  the  narrow 
street  behind  plots  of  grass  and  shrubbery,  the 
whole  shut  in  by  high  iron  palings  at  the  street 
side.  They  rise  but  two  stories,  gabled  and  pic 
turesque,  and  the  tiny  loge  of  the  concierge  sits 
protect]  ngly  out  to  the  fore  by  the  common  gate  in 
the  palings  like  an  officer  before  his  file  of  men. 
The  studio  that  Mallory  occupied  he  had  taken, 
furnished^  for  a  term  of  months  from  some  man 
who  was  away  in  Algiers  on  a  sketching  tour.  It 
was  the  ground  floor,  a  little  place  hung  about  with 
Eastern  draperies  and  altar  cloths  and  such,  and 
with  the  most  amazing  assortment  of  weapons — 
these  of  Mallory's  contribution — that  ranged  from 
a  Moorish  rifle,  some  eight  feet  long,  to  several 
pairs  of  very  serviceable  foils  and  epees  de  combat, 
some  sharpened,  some  with  buttons.  There 'was  a 
divan  under  the  great  north  light,  a  big  steamer 
chair  of  osier,  and  numberless  decorative  artistic 
and  highly  uncomfortable  benches,  chairs  and  stools 
of  carved  wood. 

Mallory  made  some  lights  and  then  dropped 
down  upon  the  big  divan  with  a  sigh  of  weariness. 

"  I  'm  good  company,  eh  Creighton,  old  chap  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  You  're  dashed  poor  company ! "  said  I  frankly. 
"What's  got  into  you,  man?  Can't  you  tell  a 


74      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

chap?  I've  never  seen  you  like  this.  Out  with 
itl  open  confession's  good  for  the  soul  or  some 
thing  like  that.  It  says  so  in  the  books." 

"  Confession  ? "  sneered  Mallory  between  the 
hands  that  held  his  head.  "  Confession,  say  you  ? 
Egad,  should  I  start  in  confessing  you'd  die 
of  horror — moreover  'twould  take  a  week's  time. 
No,  no,  lad,  I  '11  not  make  you  a  father  con 
fessor." 

And  then,  though  I  did  n't  know  how  he  'd  take 
it,  and  was  ready  for  a  burst  of  rage,  I  went  over 
and  laid  a  hand  on  his  bowed  shoulder. 

"  Denis,  old  chap,"  said  I,  "  I  think  I  know  how 
the  land  lies,  and  God  knows  I  'm — well  I  'm  sorry. 
It  could  n't  be  foreseen.  It 's  nobody's  fault,  but 
it 's  none  the  less  cruel  for  all  that.  Love 's  a  queer 
thing,  Denis.  It  won't  be  bidden  nor  it  won't  be 
coaxed.  You  may  look  for  it  a  year  and  never  find 
it,  or,  by  the  Lord,  it  may  run  fair  into  you  when 
you  turn  the  corner.  Kill  it,  old  chap,  kill  it  I  You 
must,  or  by  heaven  where  shall  we  all  be  in  a  fort 
night's  time  ?  Kill  it !  You  've  fought  before,  aye, 
and  won  too.  You  've  got  to  win  this  time  for  all 
our  sakes." 

But  he  sprang  to  his  feet  past  me  and  moved  up 
and  down  the  room,  his  lips  tight  and  his  hands 
strained  to  fists. 

"  And  what  if  I  do  n't  ?  "  he  cried.  "  What  if  I 
fight  for  myself  this  time  ?  What  if  I  chuck  the 
rest  of  you  over  ?  Have  n't  I  been  fighting  for 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      75 

some  other  man  all  my  life  ?  What  if  I  fight  for 
myself  this  time  ?  " 

He  paused  an  instant  with  one  hand  on  the  wri 
ting  table  that  stood  near,  and  his  face  changed, 
softened  and  smiled  a  bit  under  its  frown.  His  eyes 
were  wide  and  very  far  away. 

"  Fight  for  myself,  and — win  ?  Aye,  lad,  I  be 
lieve  I'd  win — win.  Think  of  it,  think  of  it! 
Great  God  Almighty,  what  a  life  to  come  !  "  His 
voice  strained  and  broke  and  he  took  up  his  march 
again  through  the  room  back  and  forth,  his  hands 
pressed  over  his  face. 

"  I  tell  you,  you  can't  know  what  I  went  through 
to-day  in  that  garden  yonder,  playing  the  lowest, 
scurviest  trick  that  ever  was  planned,  upon  the 
loveliest  woman  on  God's  wide  earth !  She 's  the 
one  woman  in  all  the  world  I  could  have  loved  for 
a  lifetime,  slaved  for,  starved  for,  worshipped  as 
I  've  never  worshipped  my  Maker !  And  there 
was  I,  lying  to  her,  fast  as  my  tongue  could  wag, 
telling  her  that  it  was  honour  kept  me  from  her  till 
now,  honour,  mind  you,  honour  !  "Why  I  'd  sold  my 
last  shreds  of  honour  the  night  past  for  forty  pound 
a  month,  sold  myself  to  lie  to  her  !  What 's  to  keep 
me,  I  say,  from  playing  out  the  lie  further  than 
you  'd  planned  when  you  bought  me  ?  You  've  left 
me  no  self-respect,  what 's  to  keep  me  from  chuck 
ing  you  over  ?  " 

"  Honour,  Denis,"  said  I,  "  that  same  honour  that 
you  never  sold  us,  for  no  money  has  passed — you 


76      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

refused  it  this  very  day — the  faith  of  a  gentle 
man." 

"  Gentleman,  bah  ! "  he  cried,  "  a  gentleman  you 
would  n't  give  your  hand  to,  last  night,  a  gentleman 
good  for  nothing,  a  gentleman  with  an  ill  name, 
with  a  misspent  youth  behind  him,  a  gentleman  you 
picked  at  once  to  do  a  blackguardly  trick  for  hire  I 
What  am  I,  to  shy  at  scruples  ?  " 

"  Yet  you  '11  shy  at  them,"  said  I. 

He  went  to  the  little  window  at  the  rear  of  the 
studio,  and  let  up  the  shade,  and  pushed  out  the  swing 
ing  shutters.  A  cool  breath  of  chestnut  and  lilac 
came  up  out  of  the  gulf  of  darkness  where  the  great 
trees  stood  arow,  their  tops  laced  against  a  star 
lit  sky.  Light  shone  yellow  from  the  upper  windows 
of  the  old  convent  beyond.  The  sound  of  a  piano 
came  very  faintly  down  through  the  garden. 

"  She 's  there  where  one  of  those  lights  shines," 
said  Mallory  in  a  half  whisper.  "My  lady's 
there,  God  keep  her,  God  bring  her  sweet 
sleep ! " 

He  stood  for  a  long  time  staring  into  the  dark, 
ness,  till  I  rose  and  moved  about  the  room,  filling 
and  lighting  a  pipe  and  making  myself  comfortable. 
I  think  he  had  quite  forgotten  that  I  was  there. 
Then  at  last  he  closed  the  shutters  with  a  long 
sigh,  and  turned  back  into  the  room.  His  face  was 
drawn  and  haggard.  He  stood  a  moment,  ir 
resolute,  and  then  moved  over  to  a  cupboard  in  the 
wall,  from  which  he  took  a  bottle  and  some  glasses 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      77 

and  a  carafe  of  water.  It  was  an  absinthe  bottle, 
Pernod. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Denis,"  I  cried.  "  Not  that !  You 
can't  afford  to  fuddle  your  brain  now.  Think  what 
we  've  to  do  in  the  next  few  days.  Think  of  to 
morrow,  man  !  Besides,  absinthe 's  no  evening  drink 
anyhow,  it 's  an  aperatif.  Go  easy ! " 

He  poured  out  the  liquor  till  the  glass  was  half 
full,  and  added  the  water,  but  he  gave  me  a  quick 
side  glance  that  said,  "  no  interfering." 

""Who  are  you,  lad,  to  teach  me  the  uses  of 
Pernod?"  said  he,  and  drank.  "The  milk  and 
water  invalids  who  drink  for  an  appetite  don't 
know  their  drink.  Eh,  but  I  do,  I  do !  It 's  the 
golden  drink  that  charms  away  troubles.  It 's  the 
cup  o'  life  to  lift  a  man  out  of  pain !  "  He  swal 
lowed  the  remainder  of  the  glass  quickly  and  filled 
another. 

"Eh,  look  at  it,  look  at  it!"  he  cried, 
fondly,  turning  goblet  before  his  eyes,  "molten 
opals,  liquid  fire!  Saw  ye  ever  such  colour, 
lad?" 

It  was  strange,  how,  as  his  tongue  loosened,  a 
faint  brogue  came  to  it,  an  Irish  roll  of  which  he  'd 
scarcely  a  trace,  sober. 

"  To-morrow,  say  you,  Bobbie  ? 

"  '  Ah,  me  beloved,  fill  the  cup  that  clears 
To-day  of  past  Regrets  an'  future  Fears : 
To-morrow !    Why  To-morrow  I  may  be 
Myself  with  Yesterday's  Sev'n  thousand  years." 


78      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

He  filled  another  glass  and  his  eyes  brightened. 

"Me  little  green  devil  that's  a  great  green 
god  ! "  said  he,  as  if  the  shimmering  liquor  heard  his 
voice.  "  Me  little  green  devil  that 's  a  great  green 
god,  take  me  to  paradise — lose  me  past  regrets  an' 
future  fears.  I  'm  weary  o'  problems  an'  fightin', 
an'  heartache.  Unravel  me  the  Master-Knot  o' 
Human  Fate,  little  green  devil !  Find  me  the  key 
to  the  door.  I  'm  weary  o'  searching. 

"  '  Heav'n  but  the  vision  o'  fulfilled  Desire, 
And  Hell  the  Shadow  from  a  soul  on  fire  ! ' 

Show  me  the  vision,  little  green  devil,  to  cool  me 
bones,  for  I  've  been  in  hell  with  a  soul  on  fire." 
He  dropped  his  face  into  his  hands  upon  the  table 
and  his  shoulders  heaved. 

"  In  hell  have  I  been  for  five  years,  little  green 
devil,"  he  muttered,  "  with  a  soul  on  fire  and 
never  a  hand  to  pull  me  up — plenty  of  arms  to  push 
me  down,  round  arms,  white  arms,  soft  arms — but 
never  a  hand  to  pull  me  out — till  now !  An'  now 
't  is  a  hand  I  may  n't  take. 

"  '  Oh,  Love — no  Love  !    All  the  noise  below  Love, 
Groanings  all  and  meanings — none  o'  Life  I  lose  ! 
All  o'  Life 's  a  cry  just  o'  weariness  and  woe,  Love — ' 

Ah,  little  green  devil  take  me  to  paradise  !  " 

His  head  rose  with  a  jerk  and  his  eyes  met  mine, 
blinked  and  sharpened  to  recognition — and  he 
laughed. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      79 

"  Heart's  blood,  but  ye  're  a  death's  head !  "  he 
cried.  "  Ye  think  I  'm  drunk  ?  Oh,  Teddy,  Teddy, 
that  ye  could  suspect  such  of  a  friend  !  Drunk,  say 
you,  drunk  ?  By  the  gods  ! " 

He  sprang  up,  a  dare  devil  light  in  his  eye,  and 
pulled  down  from  the  wall  a  pair  of  foils  with 
buttons  and  tossed  me  one  across  the  table. 

"  You  shall  see  if  I  'm  drunk,"  he  cried.  "  Defend 
yourself,  man,  defend  yourself  or,  by  my  word,  I  '11 
run  you  through !  Take  up  your  foil,  I  say !  "  And 
he  backed  out  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  flourish 
ing  his  blade  and  upsetting  chairs  as  he  went.  He 
was  very,  very  drunk,  but,  drunk  or  sober,  I  knew  his 
skill  with  the  foils.  There  were  few  better  swords 
men  in  Europe,  as  any  maitre  d'armes  in  Paris 
would  have  told  you.  Drunk,  there  may  have  been 
a  dozen  who  could  best  him,  sober,  I  believe  there 
were  three.  Two  of  them  were — and  are,  famous 
Italians,  and  one  an  equally  famous  Frenchman. 

"  Guard  yourself,  man ! "  called  Mallory,  stamp 
ing  with  his  free  foot,  and  I  fell  into  guard  to 
humour  him.  His  sword  play  was  like  flashes  of 
lightning.  I  had  scarce  caught  his  eye,  and  made 
a  half  dozen  instinctive  parries,  when  there  was  a 
crash  among  the  delft  plates  hung  in  a  far  corner. 
I  stood  agape,  empty  handed,  and  Mallory,  hands 
on  knees,  swayed  back  and  forth,  roaring  with 
laughter. 

"  Drunk  1 "  he  gasped  between  breaths,  "  drunk, 
eh  ?  Oh,  man,  man,  ye  're  a  tailor !  Ye  're  no 


80      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

swordsman !  Disarmed  like  a  recruit  and  ye  fancy 
yerself  at  the  foils ! "  He  prodded  me  in  the 
stomach  with  a  playful  point  and  roared  again. 

Then,  quite  suddenly,  his  foil  clashed  upon  the 
floor  and  he  caught  his  hands  to  his  head,  reeling 
toward  a  chair.  I  grasped  him  and  guided  him  into 
the  seat.  His  face  had  gone  very  white. 

"  I — I  've  got  it — in  the  head — again  Teddy  !  "  he 
whispered,  "  got  it  in  the — head — again  !  "  He  lay 
still  for  a  few  moments,  eyes  twitching  spasmodic 
ally.  "  Sometimes  it — comes,"  he  said  after  a 
little,  "  a  hard  tight  band — iron,  I  fancy — squeezes 
round  your  head — ye  know,  squeezes  damnably,  till 
your  skull  cracks — you  can  hear  it !  Sometimes, 
listen,  man !  sometimes  we  can't  quite  reach 
Heaven,  the  little  green  devil  and  I.  There's  a 
chap  at  the  gate  and  he  calls  out '  who 's  there  ? ' 
1  Mallory ! '  say  I,  '  Denis  Mallory,  a  poor  devil 
who 's  been  in  hell  for  five  years,  for  pity  let  me 
in  ! '  An'  then  sometimes,  lad,  he  laughs  and  goes 
off.  '  "Wait  till  a  hand  leads  ye  here,'  says  he.  An' 
we  wander  away,  the  little  green  devil  and  I,  away 
'tween  worlds  where  it 's  cold  grey  dawn." 

He  reached  for  the  glass  and  drank  a  swallow  be 
fore  I  could  snatch  it  from  him. 

"  An'  sometimes,"  he  went  on  in  his  hoarse  whis 
per,  "sometimes  I  can't  even  get  started.  I  sit 
here  an'  sip  an'  sip  and  wait,  with  me  head  goin' 
queerer  an'  queerer,  an'  the  other  end  o'  the  room 
yonder,  pulls  out  long  like  a  camera,  an'  the  ceilin' 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      81 

an'  the  walls  begin  to  come  together,  tryin'  to 
squeeze  me,  tryin'  their  hardest,  curse  'em  !  Some 
day  they  '11  do  it.  Look,  look  !  by  Heaven  they  're 
at  it  now  !  Look,  man,  for  God's  sake  !  the  ceilin' 
is  bending  down  !  It 's  tryin'  to  catch  me  !  "  He 
snatched  the  half -filled  glass  in  his  hand  and  hurled 
it  across  the  room  where  it  smashed  against  the 
wall.  Then  in  an  instant  he  had  whipped  up  his 
foil  from  where  it  lay  upon  the  floor  and  was  in 
guard,  eyes  burning,  teeth  clenched,  and  breath 
that  came  in  great  gasps.  He  lunged  fiercely  with 
the  foil  and  a  chair  went  over  with  a  crash.  The 
foil  snapped  near  the  hilt,  dropped  from  his  hand 
and  he  fell  back  into  my  arms. 

"Don't — let  it — catch  me,  Teddy  !"  he  gasped. 
"  If  it  catches  me  once — I  'm  done  for." 

6 


CHAPTER  VI 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  in,"  said  Miss 
Jessica  Mannering.  Colonel  von  Altdorf, 
buttoned  very  tightly  into  his  military  look 
ing  frock  coat,  bowed  profoundly  from  the  door 
way,  and  again  over  the  hand  that  Miss  Mannering 
extended  to  him. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  're  come,"  said  the  young  woman 
beaming  upon  him,  "  for  I  want  to  ask  such  a  tre 
mendous  lot  of  questions !  " 

"  My  very  dear  Mademoiselle ! "  cried  Colonel 
von  Altdorf  in  unconcealed  horror.  "  It  is  my  pro 
fession  to  avoid  answering  questions." 

"  But  a  woman's  questions,  Colonel !  "  protested 
Miss  Mannering. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  von  Altdorf  non-committally. 

"  They  're  different,  you  know,"  she  concluded, 
nodding  her  small  head. 

"  Ah !  "  said  von  Altdorf  again  and  pulled  at  his 
grizzled  moustache. 

"  Still,"  proceeded  the  girl,  "  I  suppose  you  have 
known  a  great  many  women  in — in  the  course  of 
your  career,  so  that  you're  accustomed  to  their 
questions." 

"  I  've  met  a  few,"  admitted  von  Altdorf,  "  and, 
yes,  they  've  been  fairly  good  at  questions." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      83 

"  All  sorts,  of  course,"  sighed  Miss  Mannering. 

"  The  questions,  Mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  The  women." 

"Why,  yes,"  said  von  Altdorf,  smiling  grimly. 
"  Why,  yes,  as  you  say,  Mademoiselle,  all  sorts  but 
each  sort  good  at  asking  questions.  I  should  say 
they  differed  but  little." 

"  The  women,  Colonel  ?  " 

"  The  questions." 

"Now  first,"  began  Miss  Mannering,  marking 
with  a  slim  forefinger — Colonel  von  Altdorf  sighed 
— "  First,  what  are  you  going  to  do  when  the 
Prince  arrives,  the  real  Prince,  I  mean  ?  Sir 
Gavin  tells  me  that  he  will  probably  be  here  to 
morrow." 

"  Why  as  to  that,  Mademoiselle,"  said  von  Alt 
dorf,  "  if  Fate  deals  us,  meanwhile,  no  better  card, 
or  if  chance  shows  us  at  the  time  no  better  way, 
we  shall  tell  him  the  whole  truth,  show  him  that 
we  took  the  only  way,  desperate  though  it  was,  to 
save  Madame,  and  beg  him  to  return  to  Novodnia 
without  seeing  her." 

"  And  do  you  think  he  will  do  it  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that  no  man  can  tell.  I  have  known 
Prince  Karl  from  childhood,  Mademoiselle,  but  I  '11 
not  guarantee  what  he  may  do  at  a  crisis.  He 
loves  his  wife,  I  believe." 

The  girl  shook  her  head  and  sighed. 

"  Poor  Prince  !  "  said  she  gently.  "  Yes,  I  think 
he  loves  his  wife,  but  she,  Colonel,  will  never  love 


84      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

the  Prince.  She  did  n't  love  him  when  she  married 
him.  She  liked  him,  she  was  fond  of  him,  some 
what,  but  love  him  ?  Ah  no  !  " 

"  It  was  the  title  then  ?  "  asked  Colonel  von  Alt- 
dorf. 

"  Why,  yes,  in  a  way,"  said  the  girl.  "  Yes,  I 
suppose  it  was  the  title — but  not  to  her,  Colonel,  to 
her  people.  They  almost  forced  her  into  the  mar 
riage.  Ah,  yes,  that  can  be  done  even  in  our  free 
country,  even  in  democratic  America.  Indeed  it 's 
done  oftener  than  people  think.  She  loved  no 
other  man,  she  liked  the  Prince,  and  I  think  he  was 
honestly  in  love  with  her — can  you  wonder  ?  So 
she  married  him." 

"You  said,  Mademoiselle,"  observed  von  Alt- 
dorf,  "  you  said,  a  moment  ago,  that  Madame  will 
never  love  the  Prince.  Yet  wives  have  been  known 
to  come  cold  to  the  altar  but  waken  to  love  as  time 
passed." 

The  girl  turned  about  on  the  swinging  stool 
where  she  sat,  and  moved  a  hand  up  the  keys  of 
the  grand  piano  that  stood  there,  in  soft  little 
arpeggios.  She  frowned  a  bit  as  if  she  were 
puzzled,  undecided. 

"  What  did  you  mean,  Mademoiselle  ? "  said 
Colonel  von  Altdorf. 

The  girl  turned  again  toward  him.  "I  saw  her 
face,"  said  she,  "  when  she  came  up  through  the 
garden  with  Mr.  Mallory  an  hour  ago,  and  said 
good-bye  to  him  at  the  porch." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      85 

"  Great  God  in  heaven ! "  said  Colonel  von  Alt- 
dorf  under  his  breath. 

"  Last  night,"  continued  Miss  Mannering,  "  after 
she  had  met  him  in  the  garden  for  the  first  time  and 
spent  an  hour  with  him,  she  slept  hardly  at  all,  but 
tossed  in  her  bed  till  past  midnight,  when  she  rose 
and  put  on  a  dressing  gown  and  sat  before  the  fire  in 
her  chamber.  I  found  her  there.  She  kept  me  be 
side  her  for  an  hour  and  would  talk  only  of  Mr. 
Mallory. 

" '  How  I  must  have  loved  him,  Jess ! '  she  said. 
*  How  I  must  have  loved  him,  long  ago,  before  it — 
it  all  happened,  all  this  dreadful  illness.  He 's  so 
splendid,  Jessica  !  so  big  and  strong,  and  so  tender 
and — dear!  I  didn't  know  princes  ever  were  so. 
Do  n't  you  envy  me,  child  ?  He  wanted  to  come 
to  me  long  ago,  he  starved  to  come  to  me,  but  he 
wouldn't  because  he  was  needed  in  his  country. 
Ah,  is  n't  that  a  man,  Jess  ?  He  loved  his  honour 
and  his  duty  more  than  he  loved  me.  Is  n't  that  a 
man  to  worship  ?  Jess,  Jess,  I  'm  too  happy  to  sleep 
— what  time  is  it  ?  One  o'clock  ?  One,  two,  three, 
eleven  till  noon,  and  three  more,  fourteen  great 
hours,  Jessica,  till  I  shall  see  him  again.  Ah,  child, 
have  you  seen  his  smile  ?  Have  you  heard  his  voice 
when  it's  low  and  deep  and  tender? — fourteen 
hours !  Give  me  something  to  make  me  sleep  or  I 
shall  be  counting  the  minutes.' 

"  That 's  how  she  talked  through  the  night,  Colo 
nel.  Do  you  wonder  that  I  said  she  'd  never  love 


86      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

the  real  Prince  ?  She 's  nervous  still,  you  see,  ah 
so  very  nervous,  and  far  from  strong,  so  that  she 
feels  things  keenly,  almost  hysterically.  She  lets 
herself  go  as  she  would  n't  if  she  were  well.  Ah, 
Colonel  von  Altdorf,  what 's  to  be  done  when  she 
finds  out  the  truth,  as  find  it  out  she  must,  of 
course,  in  time  ?  " 

Von  Altdorf  dropped  a  heavy  hand  upon  his  knee 
and  sighed. 

"  Ask  your  questions  of  the  good  God,  Mademoi 
selle,"  said  he.  "  Who  am  I,  that  I  should  answer 
them  ?  I  've  grown  grey  in  the  plots  and  schemes 
of  diplomacy,"  he  went  on  presently.  "  I  've  played 
strange  hands  in  strange  games,  Mademoiselle,  but 
whenever  Fate  sat  down  across  the  table  and  threw 
against  me  I  was  beaten.  She's  a  queer  lady, 
Fate.  She  takes  strange  freaks,  and  no  man  may 
say  what  she'll  turn  to  next.  I  used  to  take  a 
boy's  delight  in  trying  to  thwart  her,  in  matching 
my  brains  against  her  course,  but  as  I  grow  old  I 
know  more  and  more  that  no  man  can  beat  or 
check  her.  She 's  taken  our  game  out  of  our  hands 
when  we  least  looked  for  it.  She  '11  play  it  to  her 
own  ends,  and  God  have  mercy  on  us  all.  We  '11 
still  do  our  best  to  avert  catastrophe  and  to  save 

unhappiness,  but Fate  plays  the  game,  not 

we." 

"  But  you  '11  not  let  the  Prince  see  her  ?  "  cried 
Miss  Mannering. 

"  Not  I ! "  said  von  Altdorf  stoutly,  "  not  if  it 's 


87 

humanly  possible  to  prevent  it.  Trust  me  for  that. 
He  sha'  n't  see  her.  Alas,  Mademoiselle,  it  is  of  the 
false  Prince  I  'm  thinking." 

"  Ah,  yes,  yes ! "  she  murmured,  "  Mr.  Mallory ! 
Oh,  Colonel,  I — I  saw  his  face  too  when  they  came 
up  from  the  garden  !  It  was  a  tragedy.  Tell  me 
of  him,  Colonel  von  Altdorf.  I  think  one  would 
pin  one's  faith  to  him  at  the  first  look  in  his  eyes." 

"He  is  a  gallant  gentleman,"  said  Colonel  von 
Altdorf,  "  if  I  am  a  judge  of  men.  Further  than 
that  I  know  little.  He  has  had  a  varied  and  un 
happy  life,  and  he  has  certain  things  to  struggle 
against  even  now.  Alas,  I  fear  we  have  given  him, 
amongst  us,  a  greater  thing  than  all,  against  which 
to  struggle If  only  we  'd  foreseen  that  possi 
bility!  Our  hopes  and  our  fears,  Mademoiselle, 
hang  upon  the  slioulders  of  Denis  Mallory." 

"And  they've  been  together  again  to-day," 
mused  the  girl. 

"  Aye,  and  will  be  to-morrow,"  cried  von  Altdorf. 
"In  heaven's  name,  Mademoiselle,  what  of  it? 
What  if  the  lad  does  fall  in  love  with  her  and  she 
with  him?  She's  another  man's  wife  and  that 
ends  it !  God  knows  I  regret  it  all  deeply  enough. 
God  knows  it's  a  sad  and  cruel  business,  but  it 
can't  be  helped,  and  when  it 's  over,  when  she 's  well 
enough  to  be  told  the  truth,  they  '11  have  to  part, 
that 'sail." 

"  But  what  if  love  prove  stronger  than  honour, 
Colonel  ?  "  said  the  girl,  musingly  as  before.  "  What 


88      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

if  Mr.  Mallory — aye  and  the  Princess  too,  when  she 
knows  the  truth,  find  love  the  stronger  ?  throw  you 
over,  leave  you  in  the  lurch  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  for  that,  Mademoiselle,"  said  von  Alt- 
dorf  slowly,  a  bit  awkwardly,  "  love  has  not  come 
my  way,  often.  Love  and  diplomacy  have  little  in 
common,  speak  different  languages — though  on  oc 
casion,  diplomacy  must  use  love,  of  a  sort,  to  gain 
its  ends.  It  may  be  that  there  is  love  great  enough 

to  do  what  you  say No,  I'll  trust  the  lad! 

He  'd  never  play  us  false,  who  put  our  faith  in  him. 
Suffer  he  may,  and,  I  fear,  must,  but  he  '11  never 
throw  us  over,  nor  bring  shame  upon  the  lady  he 
loves.  He  '11  remember  that  she  's  another  man's 
wife Hark,  what 's  that  ?  " 

It  was  the  Princess  Eleanor  singing  in  one  of  the 
rooms  beyond.  The  voice  grew  louder  as  she  came 
along  the  passage  outside,  and  died  away  slowly  as 
she  mounted  the  stairs.  She  sang  in  a  sweet, 
hushed  voice,  a  happy  little  voice,  tender  and  low, 
an  old  song  of  Lovelace's  : 

"  Yet  this  inconstancy  is  snch 

As  thou  too  shalt  adore, 
I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much 
Loved  I  not  honour  more." 

"  There 's  your  answer,  Mademoiselle,"  said  Colo 
nel  von  Altdorf  rising  to  his  feet,  "and  now  I 
have  the  honour  to  bid  you  good-day."  He  held 
her  hand  a  moment,  smiling  down  into  her  face 
half  whimsically,  half  sadly. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      89 

"We're  all  fellow-conspirators,"  said  he,  "and 
conspiracy 's  a  sorry  business,  even  in  a  good  cause. 
Your  part  must  be  with  Madame.  Watch  over 
her,  care  for  her  as  only  a  woman  and  an  intimate 
can,  and  pray  for  the  tangle  to  straighten  itself. 
We  '11  do  our  best,  all  of  us,  for  her  happiness. 
Maybe  the  thing  will  turn  out  well,  after  all. 
Fate  's  a  queer  lady  and  plays  strange  games.  She 
may  play  a  stranger  one  here  than  we  know  of." 


OHAPTEK  VII 

"  T"   IT  OW  did  you  happen  to  want  to  marry  me, 

I 1  Karl?"  demanded  the  Princess  Eleanor, 

JL  JLathirst  for  information It  was  the 

third  day  of  their  meeting. 

"  I  saw  you  in  a  carriage,  a  victoria,  driving  in 
the  park  one  day,  the  Central  Park,  is  n't  it  ?  In 
New  York,  you  know."  He  felt  quite  safe  about 
these  points  now,  for  he  had  been  painstakingly 
coached  by  the  resourceful  Miss  Mannering. 

"  Why,  but  that,"  objected  the  Princess  wonder 
ing  a  little,  "  that 's  no  reason  at  all.  Men  do  n't 
want  to  marry  girls  just  because  they  've  seen  them 
once  on  the  street." 

"  Oh,  do  n't  they,  though  1 "  cried  Denis  Mallory. 
"  Well,  maybe  they  do  n't,  ordinary  girls.  I  never 
wanted  to  marry  any  other  girl  because  I  'd  seen 
her  once  at  a  distance.  But  you  're  so  absurdly 
different,  you  know." 

"  I  'm  not,"  declared  the  Princess  with  a  certain 
lack  of  conviction,  a  certain  obvious  willingness  to 
be  disputed.  "  Am  I  ?  "  she  added  encouragingly, 
"how?" 

Mallory  waited  till  she  raised  her  head  and  her 
eyes  met  his.  It  always  gave  him  a  little  shock,  a 
quick  catching  of  the  breath,  to  meet  her  eyes. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      91 

"  You  're  the  most  unspeakably  beautiful  thing 
that  God  ever  dreamed  of  and  made  on  the  wa 
king,"  said  he.  "  You  're  flowers  and  music  and 
the  thrill  of  love  made  human,  shut  into  one  sweet 
body.  Ah,  my  lady,  you  're  the  break  o'  day  to  a 
soul  that 's  been  shivering  in  the  dark !  Different 
from  other  women  ?  Are  there  other  women  ?  I 
suppose  so,  but  I  've  not  seen  them  or  heard  them 
or  thought  of  them  since  I  met  you.  I  've  seen 
nothing  but  your  eyes  and  your  smile  and  all  the 
perfect  loveliness  of  you,  night  and  day.  And  I  've 
heard  nothing  but  your  voice  from  morning  till 
morning.  It 's  in  my  ears  always  like  the  lilt  of  an 
old  sweet  song.  And  I  've  thought  of  nothing  but 
you  till  my  mind  will  grasp  no  other  thing,  till  my 
brain  's  a  mere  machine  that  throws  pictures  of  you 
before  me  without  rest,  waking  or  sleeping.  Dif 
ferent  from  other  women  ?  O,  my  lady,  my  lady !  " 

The  Princess  Eleanor's  face  was  hidden  in  her 
hands.  Her  little  ears  and  her  neck  were  crimson 
as  the  long  wrap  that  she  wore. 

"  Ah,  you  're  a  goddess,  my  lady,  come  down 
from — somewhere  to  make  a  god  of  a  very  worth 
less  and  undeserving  young  chap.  A  goddess  with 
a  goddess's  eyes  and  bearing,  but  oh,  a  woman's 
smile  and  a  woman's  blush  I  such  a  very  human 
goddess,  Eleanor,  that  one  must  worship,  but  that 
one  is  n't  afraid  of  !  It 's  woman  as  much  as  god 
dess,  my  lady,  and  oh  my  heart  is  in  the  dust  under 
her  feet!" 


92      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  Ah,  not  goddess,  Karl,  not  goddess  ! "  cried  the 
Princess  Eleanor  through  the  hands  that  covered 
her  face,  "  just  a  woman !  such  a  very  human 
woman  like  other  women !  Just  a  girl  who — who 
feels  her  heart  throb  and  tremble  when  you  tell  her 
she 's  beautiful,  just  a  girl  who 's  starving  for  one 
man's  love." 

But  young  Mallory  gripped  the  edge  of  the  old 
stone  seat  with  straining  fingers  and  forced  back 
the  words  that  rushed  to  his  lips. 

"  Great  God,  what  have  I  done  ? "  he  cried  in 
wardly,  aghast  at  his  own  outbreak,  "  broken  faith 
with  them  all !  and  they  trusted  me !  Oh,  you 
blackguard  !  you  blackguard  !  Is  there  anything 
you  won't  fall  to  ?  And  I  'd  sworn  to  myself  never 
to  let  it  come  to  that,  never  to  say  a  word  of  out 
right  love  to  her.  Ah,  you  blackguard !  Squirm 
out  of  it  now  if  you  can." 

He  turned  about  to  the  girl  shaking  his  head  sadly. 

"  Forgive  me,  Eleanor,"  said  he,  "  I — I  Ve  broken 
faith  with  you  in  a  sort  of  way,  have  n't  I  ?  I  was 
to  give  you  time,  not  to  press  you.  I  was  to  let  you 
come  gradually  to  know  me,  care  for  me — if  you 
could.  And  here  am  I  making  desperate  love  to 
you  almost  in  the  beginning !  It  is  n't  easy  not  to 
make  love  to  you,  my  lady.  Forgive  me  !  I  won't 
do  it  again — soon." 

The  Princess  Eleanor  smiled  to  him  adorably 
through  wet  lashes,  and  Mallory  clung  to  the  edge 
of  the  old  stone  seat. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      93 

"  Ah,  yes,  yes,  Carlo,"  she  breathed,  "  give  me  a 
little  time.  A  girl  shrinks  from  her  surrender,  even 
when — when  she  aches  to  make  the  surrender. 
It 's  a  girl's  queer  nature  to  be  so.  Do  n't  make  me 
tell  you  that  I — love  you,  yet,  even  if  I  want  to. 
Give  me  time,  Karl,  time  for  my  love  dreams,  for 
my  girl's  fears  and  qualms  and  imaginings.  Do  n't 
take  me  too  quickly  by  storm  for  I'm  wofully 
weak,  my  Prince,  and  I  'd  be  in  your  arms  in  a  mo 
ment.  Come,  we  must  walk,  we've  sat  still  too 
long.  Hook  the  cape  for  me  at  my  throat,  Carlo, 
— ah,  no,  no  perhaps — perhaps  you  'd  better — not. 
I  '11  hook  it,  so  !  Now,  come !  There  won't  be 
many  lilacs  to  fall  in  my  hair  to-day.  See,  they  're 
nearly  gone.  Ah,  but  the  chestnuts  are  a  heaven 
of  sweet  odours  !  Is  n't  our  garden  beautiful,  mon 
Prince?  Isn't  it  perfect?"  She  threw  out  her 
arms  to  the  golden  sunshine  and  her  eyes  closed. 

"  It 's  a  perfect  world,  Carlo  mio !  It 's  all  sun 
shine  and  love  and  sweet  odours  !  And  the  shadows 
are  past  and  gone.  Oh,  my  Prince,  it 's  good  to  be 
alive ! " 

She  moved  over  to  the  little  gravel  path  that  ran 
under  the  wall,  and  Mallory  followed  her.  She 
sang  under  her  breath  as  she  walked,  a  little  old 
song,  very  sweet  and  low.  It  was 

"  Yet  this  inconstancy  is  such 
Aa  thou  too  shalt  adore." 

Her   face    was  flushed  and  softly  smiling,  rosy 


94      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

with  happiness,  and  her  blue  eyes  were  half 
closed. 

"  Tell  me,  Karl,"  said  she,  after  a  time,  "  how  is 
it  that  you  speak  such  perfect  English  ?  I  've 
known  many  Europeans  who  spoke  it  well,  even 
idiomatically,  but  there 's  always  a  little  difference, 
a  little  quality  one  can't  describe,  that  makes  it 
foreign.  You  'd  know  it  was  n't  their  native 
tongue.  You  speak  it  as  if  you  had  been  born  to  it." 

"  Oh,  as  for  that,"  said  Mallory,  "  1  've  always 
spoken  English.  I  was  taught  it  from  the  cradle. 
You  see  my  mother  was  part  English.  Faith,  I 
can  speak  it  with  an  Irish  brogue,  if  you  like.  Oh, 
my  English  is  as  natural  to  me  as  yours — and  for 
once,"  he  added  inwardly,  "that's  no  lie. — You 
do  n't  know  half  my  accomplishments,"  he  went  on 
aloud.  "  I  can  do  no  end  of  things  that  would  sur 
prise  you,  really  they  would.  I  used  to  write  for 
the  newspapers — before  I  came  to  the  throne,  you 
know — money  was  at  times  a  bit  scarce  in  those 
days.  Ah,  beautiful  things  I  wrote  ! " 

"  Poetry  ?  "  cried  the  Princess  Eleanor  eagerly. 

"  No,  not  poetry,  heaven  forbid  ! " 

"  Ah,  but  you  can,  I  know !  "  she  insisted.  "  I 
know  you  can.  Carlo  mio — will  you  write  me  a 
poem  ?  Just  the  littlest  bit  of  a  one  !  There  was 
a  man,  oh  ages  ago,  who  wrote  poems  to  me.  They 
were  so  silly  !  Please,  will  you  write  me  a  poem, 
Carlo,  if  I  '11  be  very,  very  good  ? — All  about  me, 
you  know !  See  what  a  vain  little  cat  I  am !  " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      95 

"  I  will  not,"  said  Mallory  with  decision.  "  I 
will  put  on  a  little  red  jacket  and  a  collar  with  a 
chain  and  be  dragged  about  the  streets  after  a 
hand-organ  if  that  would  amuse  you,  or  I  '11  climb 
trees  or  stand  on  my  head,  but  I  '11  write  no  poems 
for  anybody.  There  are  depths  to  which  I  have  n't 
yet  sunk — though  upon  my  word  I  hadn't  sus 
pected  them." 

The  Princess  sighed  wistfully. 

"  I  should  have  liked  a  poem,"  she  grieved,  "  still, 
if  you  won't  do  a  little  thing  like  that  for  me  I  sup 
pose  I  shall  have  to  go  without  it." 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  soft  laugh  of  infinite 
content,  of  joy  and  happiness.  She  put  up  her 
two  hands  clasped  upon  his  breast,  leaning  upon 
him,  smiling  into  his  eyes. 

"  Ah,  you  sha'  n't  be  teased  !  "  she  cried.  "  Men 
hate  poetry,  do  n't  they  ?  Great,  big,  strong  fight 
ing  men  like  you.  You  sha' n't  be  teased,  my 
Prince,  I  'm  going  to  be  nice  to  you,  very  nice." 

They  were  standing  under  the  little  window  in 
the  studio  wall.  There  came  suddenly,  from  above, 
the  sound  of  voices,  quick,  hoarse  exclamations, 
and  movements  as  of  a  struggle.  Then  all  at  once, 
a  man  burst  through  the  white  curtains,  and  poised 
an  instant,  one  leg  over  the  window  ledge,  and 
sprang  to  the  ground  before  them,  half  falling  as 
he  leaped,  so  that  he  sprawled  upon  the  black 
earth  on  hands  and  knees. 

He  was  on  his  feet  and  facing  them  in  a  moment. 


96      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

He  was  a  rather  small  man,  under  medium  height, 
swarthy  of  complexion,  and  with  very  black  hair. 
He  had  large  and  dark  eyes,  and  a  fierce  little 
moustache  that  turned  up  sharply  at  the  ends. 

The  man's  breast  heaved  with  a  stormy  breath 
ing  that  checked  his  utterance.  His  face  was 
flushed,  and  his  hands  shook  with  rage.  He  seemed 
scarcely  to  look  at  the  Princess  Eleanor  but  fixed 
his  eyes  upon  young  Denis  Mallory  in  a  glare  so 
savage  that  the  Irishman  instinctively  drew  back  a 
pace,  thrusting  the  girl  behind  him,  so  that  his 
body  sheltered  her. 

"  "Well  ?  "  said  he  in  a  puzzled  tone,  "  well  ?  what 
is  it  ?  "  Then,  all  in  a  flash,  the  truth  burst  upon, 
him. 

"  You — you  blackguard !  "  cried  the  man  thickly, 
"  you  dog ! — you  thief  ! "  He  spoke  in  French  and 
his  rage  was  so  great  that  his  tongue  would  only 
with  difficulty  form  the  sounds.  It  was  as  if  he 
wrenched  each  word  from  his  breast  with  a  visible 
effort. 

"  You — you  wolf  in  the  fold ! "  he  cried,  "  you 
shall  pay  for — this,  curse  you,  with  your — life  !  " 
He  waved  his  arm  helplessly  and  leaned  back 
against  the  stone  wall,  panting. 

The  Princess  Eleanor  made  a  tottering  step  for 
ward,  holding  by  Mallory's  arm  with  both  her 
hands.  Her  face  was  very  white,  and  she  stared 
at  the  man  before  her  with  wide  burning  eyes  and 
parted  lips. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      97 

"Carlo,  Carlo!"  she  cried  in  a  half  whisper, 
"  who  is — that  man  ?  What  does — he — want  ?  It 's 
so — so  strange  !  I  seem  to  have — to  have  seen  him 

before — somewhere His  face  is Why 

let  me  think ! — It 's  all  so  strange  !  I  must  have 
seen  him  before — what  does  he  want,  Karl?  Who 
is  he?" 

Mallory  drew  the  girl  back  once  more,  very 
gently,  till  she  stood  behind  him,  and  his  left  arm 
held  her  about  the  shoulders.  His  face  had  gone  a 
bit  pale  and  his  jaw  very  firm  and  set.  He  never 
took  his  eyes  from  those  of  the  short,  swarthy  man 
by  the  wall.  They  gleamed  steadily  under  drawn 
brows.  I  should  not  have  cared  to  face  Denis  just 
then. 

"  This  man,  Eleanor,"  said  he  slowly,  in  a  cold 
hard  voice  that  bore  a  threat,  "  this  man  is  a  very 
rash  and  foolish  person  whom  I — and  others,  have 
tried  to  do  a  service — a  service,"  he  repeated,  still 
looking  steadily  into  the  other's  eyes.  "  But  he  is 
so  foolish  and  headstrong  as  to  wish  to  do  me  a 
harm  in  return — so  ungrateful  and  so  cowardly  as 
to  be  willing  to  bring  great  risk  to  those  whom  he 
pretends  to — love,  all  for  a  childish  spite."  He 
shook  his  head — eyes  never  moving — and  his  arm 
tightened  a  bit  about  her  shoulders,  drew  her 
closer.  "  But  he  '11  not  be  allowed  to  bring  harm 
to  them,  Eleanor.  They  shall  be  protected  at  any 
cost — of  his  life  or  of  mine. — That 's  all  you  need 
know.  And  now  I  must  take  you  back  to  the 

7 


98      THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

house.  This — man  must  be  dealt  with  at  once. 
Come,  Eleanor." 

The  swarthy  man  by  the  wall  raised  one  hand  in 
a  queer  little  helpless  gesture  and  his  head  drooped. 

Mallory  drew  the  girl  away,  and  they  moved  up 
the  gravel  path  toward  the  house.  She  clung  still 
to  his  arm  and  her  eyes  were  troubled,  puzzled  and 
anxious. 

"You'll  not  let  him  harm  you,  Karl?"  she 
begged  softly.  "  He  looked  so  desperate,  so  fu 
riously  angry  !  You  '11  not  let  him  harm  you,  my 
Prince  ?  " 

"  No,  Eleanor,"  said  he  laughing  a  little.  "  "Why 
no  !  What  ?  harm  the  Prince  of  Novodnia  ?  No, 
no  harm  shall  come  to  the  Prince  of  Novodnia,  my 

dear.  Be  certain  of  that Go  in  now.  You 

shall  hear  soon  that  all 's  well." 

He  bent  over  her  hand  and  held  it  an  instant  to 
his  cheek,  kissed  the  long  slim  fingers  and  the  pink 
palm. 

The  Princess  Eleanor  caught  the  hand  to  her 
breast  with  a  little  low  cry.  Her  cheeks  flamed 
suddenly. 

"  Au  revoir,  Carlo,"  she  whispered.  "  Not  good 
bye,  ah,  not  good-bye It 's  only  till  to-morrow. 

Au  revoir,  Carlo  mio ! "  She  moved  back  under 
the  porch  and  through  the  door,  but  her  eyes  were 
upon  him  till  the  door  closed. 

Young  Mallory  gave  his  head  a  little  jerk,  and 
pressed  his  hands  a  moment  over  his  eyes,  then  he 


THE    GARDEN 

turned  and  went  quietly  do \\£3&Jftflgjk  the  0 

to  the  high  studio  wall.  *f'«/0$fo  St,  QUlt 

The  Prince  of  Novodnia  stood  in  his  place  theref'/C 
his  brows  lowering,  his  hands  playing  at  the  but 
tons  of  his  jacket.     I  was  in  the  window  above, 
half  concealed  with  the  curtains. 

"  Well,  sir  ?  "  said  Denis  Mallory,  and  came  to  a 
halt  before  the  Prince. 

Karl  of  Novodnia  stared  at  him  sullenly.  His 
mouth  worked  under  the  fierce  black  moustache. 

"  It  is  not  for  me  to  judge  you,  sir,"  said  the 
Irishman  coldly,  "  but  you  show  your  affection  and 
your  care  for  your — for  the  Princess  in  strange 
ways.  You  may  thank  Heaven,  or  whom  you 
please,  that  the  princess  has  been  spared  a  shock 
that  might  well  have  been  fatal.  You  know  the 
reasons  why  I  am  here  playing  a  part.  You  know 
why  it  is  necessary,  yet  you  attempt  deliberately  to 
wreck  all  our  hopes  and  plans  and  efforts  that  are 
made  in  your  behalf  as  well  as  hers." 

"  *  Efforts  in  my  behalf ' !  "  sneered  the  Prince 
bitterly.  "  Aye  fine  talk,  Monsieur  le  Chevalier 
Bayard  !  fine  talk,  Monsieur  the  thief,  Monsieur  the 
sneak  in  another 's  home !  You  and  your  noble 
efforts  !  I  tell  you,  Monsieur  !  "  he  cried,  shaking  a 
clenched  hand,  "  I  tell  you  you  are  sneaking  behind 
your  fine  pretensions  to  steal  the  love  of  my  wife, 
of  the  Princess  Eleanor  of  Novodnia  !  I  saw  you, 
you  blackguard !  I  saw  her  put  her  two  hands 
upon  your  breast  and  look  up  into  your  damned 


ioo    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

face  !  Do  you  think  I  do  n't  know  a  love  look  when 
I  see  it  ?  You  're  plotting  to  steal  my  wife  from 
me,  you  cur,  you  and  the  whole  parcel  of  thieves 
here,  among  you  I  But  there  '11  be  one  less  for  I  '11 
have  your  life,  by  the  love  of  God,  here  and  now  ! 
Above  there  !  Weapons  !  Do  you  hear  ?  "Weap 
ons,  I  say  I  Curse  you,  you  beast,  do  you  want 
me  to  kill  you  with  my  hands  ?  " 

Mallory  smiled.  The  probability  of  his  death  at 
the  naked  hands  of  the  raving  little  man  before 
him  seemed  not  alarming.  Yet  his  eyes  were  set 
and  hard,  a  bit  narrowed.  He  was  fond  of  calling 
himself  ill  names,  of  imputing  to  his  motives  a  base 
ness  that  was  far  from  their  due,  but  he  relished 
little  this  sort  of  thing  from  another. 

He  looked  up  to  the  window  and  met  my  eyes.  He 
gave  a  little  shrug  of  helplessness  and  shook  his  head. 

"  I  '11  not  fight  with  you,  sir,"  said  he  to  the 
Prince.  "  You  're  needed  elsewhere,  I  'm  told. 
Your  life  must  n't  be  risked." 

The  Novodnian  made  as  if  he  would  spring  upon 
him  with  empty  hands. 

"  You  cur !  You  cur  !  "  he  snarled  furiously. 
"  A  coward  too,  eh  ?  Brave  enough  to  sneak  into 
a  man's  house  and  steal  his  wife  but  too  cowardly 
to  face  steel !  You  cur  !  " 

"  Teddy,"  said  Denis  Mallory  quietly,  his  eyes 
steady  and  hard  upon  the  other  man's,  "  will  you 
be  good  enough  to  throw  me  down  a  pair  of  sharp 
ened  foils  ?  " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    101 

But  I  leaned  from  the  window  panic-stricken. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Denis  1 "  I  cried.  "  You  must  n't, 
you  must  n't !  Think  what  you  're  doing,  man  ! 
Oh,  have  a  care  !  "  Denis  glanced  up  at  me  for  an 
instant  and  smiled. 

"  It 's  all  right,  lad,"  said  he.  "  Never  fear ! 
Come,  the  foils  !  and  be  quick  !  " 

I  took  down  the  foils  from  the  wall  near  at  hand, 
and  tossed  them  to  him.  Both  men  had  taken  off 
jackets  and  waistcoats,  and  they  took  their  blades 
and  went  to  work  in  an  instant,  Denis  quietly  and 
wholly  on  the  defensive,  the  Prince  with  a  mad 
fury  that  made  me  fear  for  a  moment  lest  he  break 
down  that  matchless  guard. 

At  the  clash  of  the  blades,  von  Altdorf  came 
running  across  the  studio.  He  had  been  conferring 
with  MacKenzie  in  a  far  corner  and  had  not  seen 
me  fetch  the  swords. 

"  What  are  they  doing  ? "  he  cried,  as  he  ran, 
"fighting,  fighting?  For  God's  sake,  Creighton, 
why  do  n't  you  stop  them  ?  Sir,  sir  !  "  He  had 
one  foot  over  the  window  ledge  when  I  hauled  him 
back  into  the  room. 

"  Hush,  man !  "  I  cried  into  his  ear.  "  Hush, 
you  '11  put  them  out !  Denis  won't  hurt  the  Prince 
and  the  Prince  can't  hurt  Denis.  He  would  fight ! 
He 's  mad  with  rage.  He  was  all  for  tearing  Denis 
with  his  empty  hands.  Be  still,  there'll  be  no 
harm  done ! " 

It  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  exhibitions  of 


102    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

swordsmanship  that  I  have  ever  seen,  Mallory's  won 
derful  and  impregnable  defence  against  an  attack 
which  was  a  very  whirlwind  of  fierceness  and  in 
tensity.  Aye,  and  a  skilful  whirlwind  too,  not  all 
random  slashing.  The  Prince  was  a  fine  swords 
man  and  his  rage  gave  him  a  strength  and  endur 
ance  far  beyond  his  ordinary  form. 

But  even  this  strength  and  endurance  could  not 
last  forever  against  such  a  blade.  His  thrusts  grew 
weaker  and  his  breathing  more  laboured,  till  he 
drew  off  a  moment  and  stood  bent  and  trembling, 
his  point  resting  upon  the  ground,  and  his  gaze 
fixed  in  baffled  hatred  upon  the  young  Irishman. 

It  was  at  just  this  moment,  while  he  stood  waiting, 
tall,  slender,  strong  and  ready,  his  head  reared  as 
we  grew  to  know  it  so  well  in  times  of  stress,  point 
resting  lightly  upon  the  ground  near  his  feet,  left 
hand  upon  hip  ;  it  was  at  this  moment  that  I  saw 
— and  I  think  von  Altdorf  saw  it  too — a  strange 
look  come  upon  Mallory's  face,  an  uncertainty,  a 
problem.  It  was  as  if  he  put  himself  a  question, 
and  demanded  its  answer.  Here  was  he  in  a 
quarrel  not  of  his  seeking,  driven  to  it  by  insults  the 
grossest  possible,  and  facing  the  one  man  of  all  the 
world  who  stood  in  the  way  of  what  his  heart 
craved.  Here  was  a  way  out  of  his  difficulties, 
everything  made  easy.  The  giving  up  of  all  that 
was  dear  to  him  in  the  world,  that  he  had  thought 
inevitable,  need  not  be  done.  Here  was  a  way  easy 
and  sure.  He  needn't  even  thrust.  He  needn't 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    103 

do  the  thing  himself.  A  parry  with  the  point  held 
firm,  not  brought  back  en  garde,  and  the  man's  own 
lunge  must  spit  him — so  easy  as  that — and  Eleanor 
in  the  house  yonder ! 

I  think  both  von  Altdorf  and  I  read  his  thoughts 
as  though  they  were  a  printed  page.  I  felt  von 
Altdorf's  hand  upon  my  shoulder.  It  trembled  a 
little.  Then  the  look  passed  from  Mallory's  face  as 
swiftly  as  it  had  come.  He  gave  his  head  a  little 
shake  and  smiled  once  more.  He  even  glanced  up 
to  the  window,  where  the  two  of  us  leaned  far  out, 
watching  with  fascinated  eyes,  and  gave  us  a 
humorous  wink. 

It  was  like  Denis.  Tragedy  and  comedy  ran 
ever  side  by  side  in  his  nature,  and  he  found  fun  in 
the  darkest  of  dangers. 

The  Prince  attacked  once  more,  furiously,  with  a 
sort  of  desperate  madness  as  if  he  knew  himself 
overmatched  but  sought  by  the  very  storm  of  his 
onslaught  to  beat  down  that  steel  wall.  But  he 
met  with  another  reception  this  time,  for  Denis  who 
had  been  content,  before,  merely  to  keep  his  body 
from  hurt,  now  took  the  offensive  and  pressed  the 
other  into  defence,  pressed  him  till  he  broke  ground, 
till  he  retreated  step  by  step,  and  at  last  his  left 
heel  touched  the  wall.  We  who  sat  near,  just  over 
their  heads,  saw  the  perspiration  break  out  upon 
the  Prince's  forehead  and  trickle  down  his  nose  and 
cheeks. 

Then  began  the  marvellous  part  of  it,  for  Denis, 


104    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

quiet,  cool,  steady  as  a  machine,  began  to  break 
through  the  other's  guard,  at  will.  His  blade 
flashed  too  swiftly  for  sight  to  follow.  To  us  above 
it  had  the  appearance  of  being  in  a  dozen  places  at 
once,  a  dozen  glittering  lines  with  the  afternoon 
sun  shining  upon  its  length,  as  the  spokes  of  a 
rapidly  moving  wheel  seem  blended  to  the  eye  in  a 
fan  of  quivering  light. 

He  made  none  of  those  silly  and  unnecessary 
motions,  those  stampings  and  outcries  and  wavings 
of  the  arm  to  which  the  Italians  and  even  the 
French  hold.  He  fought  with  the  least  movement 
possible,  knees  bent  no  more  than  need  be,  wrist 
free  and  swifter  than  lightning,  eyes  calm,  steady 
and  fixed  unwaveringly  upon  those  of  his  opponent, 
never  upon  the  blades. 

I  say  he  broke  through  the  Prince's  guard  at  will, 
touched  him  here  and  there,  so  lightly  as  not  to 
scratch  the  skin,  nor  tear  the  garment,  but  always 
to  be  felt,  always  to  make  the  man  realise  that  he 
could  run  him  through  in  an  instant  if  he  wished  it. 
Breast,  arm,  shoulder,  even  cheek,  he  touched  him, 
and  the  Prince  cursed  with  the  little  breath  he  had 
left,  cursed  and  sobbed  with  rage,  for  now  he  knew 
that  the  man  would  not  kill  or  even  wound  him, 
unless,  perchance,  he  was  biding  his  time  and 
meant  to  finish  the  game  at  his  leisure.  He  knew 
that  he  was  being  played  with,  wearied  out  at  the 
other's  mercy,  shamed  before  us  all.  Already  his 
wrist  burned  as  if  with  fire,  and  his  arm  near  the 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    105 

shoulder  ached  till  it  was  numb.  His  sword  played 
still  in  a  sort  of  mechanical  desperation,  but  there 
was  no  cunning  nor  strength  in  it.  Then,  while  his 
brain  swam  dizzily  and  the  garden  before  his  eyes 
wheeled  and  swung  as  in  a  fever,  he  heard  Mr. 
Mallory  say  sharply,  as  if  from  a  great  distance, 

"  Come,  sir,  are  you  satisfied  ?  Enough  of  this 
farce!"  And  suddenly  the  foil  seemed  to  leap 
from  his  hand  as  by  a  strength  of  its  own,  leap 
high  in  the  air  over  his  head  and  wheel  against  the 
sky  till  it  fell  at  a  little  distance,  striking,  point 
downward,  in  the  black  earth,  and  quivered  there 
upright. 

Then  he  dropped  back  helplessly  against  the  wall, 
blind,  aching  and  crushed,  and  the  tears  coursed 
down  his  cheeks  and  dripped  from  his  chin.  He 
would  have  slipped  to  the  ground  but  that  Denis 
Mallory  sprang  forward,  dropping  his  foil,  and 
threw  his  long  arms  about  him,  lifting  him  in  them 
as  if  he  had  been  a  child.  "When  he  wakened  to 
consciousness  he  was  lying  upon  the  big  divan  in  the 
studio. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

COLONEL  YON  ALTDORF  was  holding 
his  head  with  one  arm  and  forcing  brandy 
from  a  little  glass  between  his  teeth. 
Young  Mallory  sat  upon  the  edge  of  the  divan, 
holding  one  of  the  limp  hands  and  chafing  it  be 
tween  his  own.  MacKenzie  and  I  hovered  near 
with  anxious  faces. 

The  Prince  lay  silent  for  a  long  time  after  his 
senses  had  come  to  him  again,  eyes  closed  and  limbs 
motionless.  Then  at  last  he  rose,  a  bit  unsteadily, 
to  his  feet,  and  went  to  the  window  that  overlooked 
the  garden,  where  he  stood  gazing  out  upon  the 
trees,  again  for  a  long  time.  He  had  raised  a  pro. 
testing  hand  when  von  Altdorf  would  have  spoken, 
so  that  we  all  stood  silent,  waiting. 

When  he  turned  back  into  the  room  there  was  no 
more  passion  to  be  seen  upon  his  face,  no  more  of 
the  furious  tempest  of  rage  that  had  so  lately 
shaken  him.  His  head  drooped  and  the  flush  in  his 
cheeks  seemed  of  honest  shame. 

He  went  over  to  young  Denis  Mallory  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

"  I  did  you  a  great  wrong,  sir,"  said  the  Prince 
in  a  low  voice.  "  I  put  a  shameful  insult  upon  you, 
and  though  you  might  have  killed  me  in  the  fight  I 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    107 

forced,  you  would  not.  You  have  shamed  me  more 
than  any  man.  I  ask  your  pardon  and  your  hand. 
I  wronged  you." 

"  Why,  sir ! "  cried  Denis  Mallory,  his  own  face 
flushing  crimson.  "  Why,  sir,  you  unman  me !  I 
should  not  have  fought  at  all,  for  no  man  may  be 
held  accountable  for  his  words  when  anger  carries 
him  beyond  reason.  You  more  than  make  amends, 
sir." 

The  Prince  dropped  upon  a  chair  beside  the  table 
and  leaned  his  head  upon  one  hand.  He  seemed 
still  weary  and  faint  with  exhaustion. 

"  I  owe  you  gentlemen  all,"  said  he,  "  a  debt  I 
can  never  repay  for  your  care  of  the  person  and 
health  of  the  Princess  Eleanor.  From  Sir  Gavin 
MacKenzie  and  from  von  Altdorf,  here,  I  had  a 
right  to  expect  all  they  could  perform,  but  as  for 
you  two  gentlemen,  M.  Mallory  and  M.  Creighton 
upon  whom  I  had  no  least  claim,  I  cannot  express 
my  obligation.  Your  plan  was  no  doubt  the  best 
one  that  could  be  made.  It  is  a  pity,  now  that  I 
am  so  soon  in  Paris,  that  it  was  put  into  effect,  for 
it  was  a  desperate  makeshift  that  will  require  des 
perate  remedies  and  a  terrible  shock  to  Madame, 
but  you  could  not  have  known  I  was  coming." 

"  Ah,  why  did  you  come,  sir  ?  "  groaned  von  Alt 
dorf.  "  Why  did  you  come  ?  It  was  madness  to 
leave  the  country  at  such  a  time!  Aren't  those 
dogs  waiting  with  their  tongues  out,  to  snap  at 
your  seat,  once  you  're  out  of  it  ?  Is  n't  Georgias 


io8    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

sleeping  with  his  clothes  on  up  in  the  hills  over 
Novodni,  waiting  to  gobble  the  city  ?  And  has  n't 
he  a  rabble  of  bandit  swine  to  back  him  ?  Ah,  sir, 
it  was  madness  to  come  here  now  ! " 

The  Prince  shook  his  head  at  him  with  a  little 
whimsical  smile. 

"  You  're  a  hard  taskmaster,  von  Altdorf,"  said 
he,  "  hard  as  Fate,  and  by  my  faith,  I  'm  weary  of 
that  lady.  She  drives,  von  Altdorf,  she  never  be 
guiles.  Man,  man,  am  I  to  be  all  Prince  and  never 
husband  ?  Am  I  a  machine,  Colonel  ?  Shall  I  love 
a  throne  better  than  my  wife  who 's  in  danger  ?  " 

Von  Altdorf  pulled  at  his  moustache. 

"  I  was  n't  thinking  of  you,  sir,  nor  of  what  you 
love,"  said  he  bluntly.  "  I  was  thinking  of  Novod- 
nia.  I  served  your  father,  sir,  and  I  serve  you. 
I  'm  ready  to  do  your  will  at  my  life's  cost,  but 
your  will  against  your  welfare  and  the  welfare  of 
your  house  I  '11  oppose  with  all  my  strength.  No 
Pavelovitch,  no  Russian  cat's  paw,  shall  sit  in  No- 
vodni  if  I  can  prevent  it.  I  serve  the  Prince,  sir, 
not  the  man,  when  the  two  go  separate  ways." 

"A  hard  taskmaster,"  said  the  Prince,  smiling 
still,  a  bit  sadly,  "  hard  as  Fate.  You  've  brains 
where  your  heart  should  be,  von  Altdorf." 

"  I  've  loyalty  to  my  country  there,"  growled 
von  Altdorf.  "  And  look  you,  sir,  we  've  a  question 
to  face — or  shall  have  soon,  now  that  Madame  is 
assured  of  recovery,  and  must  soon  be  told  that  she 
is  your  wife.  What 's  to  be  done  ?  " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    109 

"  "Why,  seat  her  by  my  side  in  Novodni !  What 
else  ?  "  said  the  Prince. 

"You  know  the  popular  attitude  in  Novodnia 
toward  that,  sir,"  observed  von  Altdorf.  "  Is  your 
seat  so  firm  under  you  that  you  can  afford  to  alien 
ate  your  own  supporters?  Would  Georgias  have 
no  move  to  make,  with  a  commoner — albeit  the 
loveliest  woman  alive — in  the  Palace  at  Novodni  ? 
Her  son  could  n't  reign,  sir." 

"  Now  by  heaven ! "  cried  Prince  Karl,  "  we  '11 
not  fight  this  matter  all  over  again  !  Princess  in 
fact  she  shall  be  as  well  as  in  name.  As  for  public 
opinion,  damn  public  opinion !  God  above,  von 
Altdorf,  has  there  been  no  Draga  Maschin  ?  Has 
there  been  no  Katia  Petrofski  ?  Novodnia  is  not 
the  German  Empire,  man,  nor  the  Kingdom  of 
Italy !  Who  cares  whence  came  a  Balkan  Prin 
cess  ?  whether  she  was  a  king's  daughter  or  a 
peasant's  ?  " 

"  It 's  never  been  the  custom  of  your  house  to 
marry  save  in  royal  circles,"  said  von  Altdorf. 
"Your  mother  was  no  peasant's  daughter,  my 
Prince.  I  give  you  my  word  that  if  you  attempt 
to  seat  Madame  beside  you,  your  son  will  never 
reign  in  Novodnia,  but  a  Pavelovitch  will  take  the 
throne  that  your  fathers  have  held  for  a  century, 
upon  your  death,  if  not  before — a  short  time 
before." 

The  Prince  dropped  his  face  into  his  hands  and 
covered  his  ears. 


no    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"Will  you  have  done,  man!"  he  groaned. 
"  Do  n't  I  know  all  you  say  ?  Have  n't  I  spent 
sleepless  nights  without  end  over  it  ?  Let  be,  let 
be,  von  Altdorf !  I  can't  bear  it  now.  "Wait  till  it 
faces  us !  Give  me  time  to  think.  Great  God,  was 
ever  a  man  so  beset  ?  " 

"  But  one  thing  more,  sir,"  persisted  von  Altdorf, 
"  an  important  thing.  It  is  too  much  to  hope  that 
you  were  not,  or  at  least  will  not  be,  followed 
here.  Those  devils  are  too  clever  to  miss  the 
chance.  Georgias  is  out  of  it,  of  course,  for  he 's  in 
the  mountains  somewhere  about  Makarin,  but  his 
arch  cutthroat,  von  Steinbrticke,  is  always  in  the 
capital,  spying  about.  He  'd  know  you  were  gone 
in  the  course  of  a  day  or  so,  even  if  he  did  n't  con 
stantly  keep  you  shadowed,  as  is  most  probable, 
and  he  'd  be  off  here  or  send  some  one  with  a  band 
of  their  men,  at  once.  Keep  indoors,  sir,  as  much 
as  possible.  Never  go  abroad  without  some  of  us 
with  you,  and  never  go  abroad  at  all  in  the  night. 
Think  of  a  bit  of  news  from  Paris  that  would  most 
please  Georgias,  and  would  set  him — you  know 
where." 

The  Prince  settled  back  in  his  chair  and  dropped 
his  hands  wearily  into  his  lap. 

"  I  am  in  your  hands,  gentlemen,"  said  he  in  a 
tired,  overwrought  voice.  "  Do  as  you  will.  One 
thing  only  I  insist  upon.  I  am  here  in  Paris,  wisely 
or  foolishly,  as  you  like,  and  here  I  stay  till  I  have 
seen  my  wife  and  made  myself  known  to  her,  till 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    in 

we  have  come  to  an  understanding.  I  shall  not  go 
back  to  Novodnia  till  all  this  mystery  and  uncer 
tainty  is  cleared  away,  till  I  know  that  the  Prin 
cess  Eleanor  will  follow  me  when  she  is  able." 

"  But  that,  sir "  cried  old  MacKenzie,  and  bit 

his  words  sharply  in  two  when  von  Altdorf  raised 
a  warning  hand. 

"  Why  then,  with  that  we  must  be  content,"  said 
von  Altdorf,  "  save  that  the  Princess  Eleanor  is  in 
no  state  to  be  told  the  truth  or  to  receive  you  at 
present,  sir.  "We  must  wait,  and  guard  your  person 
meantime  with  all  care — God  send  no  ill  fall  upon 
Novodnia  while  you  are  absent.'* 

Denis  Mallory  had  been  standing  by  the  window 
that  looked  out  over  the  grass  plot  and  shrubbery 
to  the  narrow  little  rue  Boissonade.  He  was 
screened  from  without  by  the  white  lace  curtains 
that  hung  before  the  window. 

He  turned  and  beckoned  with  his  eyes  to  Colonel 
von  Altdorf,  who,  after  a  moment,  yawned  and 
strolled  nonchalantly  across  the  room. 

"  There 's  a  pair  of  shabby  looking  chaps  have 
been  loitering  about  in  front  of  the  studio  for  half 
an  hour,"  whispered  Mallory.  "  They  're  gotten  up 
to  look  like  Italian  models  out  of  work,  but  I  do  n't 
think  they  're  models  unless  they  're  newcomers. 
I  've  never  seen  them  before.  They  act  peculiar." 

Von  Altdorf  peered  through  the  window  and 
waited  till  the  faces  of  the  two  men  came  into  view. 
Then  his  own  face  went  suddenly  crimson  with 


112    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

the  effort  to  keep  down  the  cry  that  rose  to  his 
lips. 

"  By  heaven,  I  said  they  'd  come ! "  he  whispered. 
"  One  of  them 's  Baron  von  Steinbriicke  and  the 
other  is  a  rascal  in  his  pay.  Yon  Steinbriicke,  eh  ? 
The  villain 's  after  big  game  or  he  'd  never  come 
himself.  He  'd  send  others.  He  's  a  renegade  Aus 
trian  driven  out  of  Vienna  by  card  scandals  and  at 
tempts  at  blackmail  against  some  of  the  court  set, 
and  he  's  George's  right  hand — worth  two  of  George 
at  that,  blackguard  though  he  is.  But  they  must 
be  driven  off,  somehow,  before  the  Prince  leaves 
the  house.  Creighton,  man,  come  here  a  moment." 

I  went  over  to  the  window  and  von  Altdorf  told 
me  briefly  what  he  had  just  told  Denis. 

"  I  think  they  '11  be  off  if  any  one  goes  out,"  said 
he.  "  Do  you  try  it.  They  must  n't  see  the 
Prince." 

I  took  my  hat  and  stick  and  went  out  into  the 
porch  and  slowly  down  the  path  to  the  high  iron 
fence  and  the  little  loge  of  the  concierge.  The  two 
loafers  outside  moved  a  short  distance  away  and 
watched.  It  seemed  that  they  were  not  easily  to 
be  frightened  off.  I  went  into  the  loge  and 
brought  the  concierge  out  from  the  preparation  of 
her  dinner,  a  fat,  gray-haired  and  merry  old  woman 
with  a  cheery  word  for  every  one. 

I  pointed  out  the  two  men  in  the  street,  taking 
good  care  that  they  should  see  me  doing  it,  and  told 
her  that  M.  Mallory  believed  them  to  be  certain 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    113 

thieves  who  had  robbed  a  friend  of  his  some  time 
since,  and  were  no  doubt  meditating  an  attack  in 
the  rue  Boissonade.  This,  the  concierge  opined, 
grimly,  would  be  made  difficult,  not  to  say  disagree 
able,  for  them,  so  long  as  she  retained  her  health 
and  strength.  She  retreated  to  the  loge  shaking 
her  great  wooden  spoon  threateningly,  and  mutter 
ing  to  herself. 

"Herr  von  Steinbriicke  and  friend  won't  have 
precisely  an  easy  time  of  it,  spying  about  here," 
said  I  as  I  went  out  into  the  impasse. 

The  two  men  moved  off  ahead  of  me  toward  the 
Boulevard  Kaspail,  glancing  back  over  their  shoul 
ders  sullenly  enough,  every  moment  or  two.  At 
the  Boulevard  they  suddenly  hailed  a  passing  fiacre, 
and  jumping  into  it,  went  off  down  the  street  at  a 
great  pace.  I  was  after  them  immediately  in 
another  cab,  not  that  there  was  anything  to  be 
gained  by  following  them,  but  because  I  was  in  a 
mood  to  give  them  a  fright  and  teach  them  a 
lesson.  Moreover,  I  wished  to  leave  them  as  far  as 
possible  from  the  rue  Boissonade. 

They  turned  at  the  Boulevard  Montparnasse,  and 
drove  at  a  gallop  toward  the  gare,  then  down  the 
rue  de  Kennes  to  the  Boulevard  St.  Germain  and 
so  to  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  across  the  river. 

Here,  in  a  great  throng  of  vehicles,  so  thick  that 
they  could  not  have  distinguished  mine,  I  bade  my 
cabby  turn  round,  and  drove  back  laughing  to  the 
rue  Boissonade. 

8 


114    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"Egad!"  said  I.  "They'll  be  in  a  panic  at 
every  fiacre  that  comes  up  behind  them  for  the 
next  hour.  They  '11  be  all  over  Paris  before  they 
dare  stop." 


CHAPTER  IX 

"  'IT  "IT  THY  yes,  of  course,"  said  Miss  Jessica 
%/%/  Mannering.  "  Show  Colonel  von  Alt- 
*  *  dorf  in  at  once." 

"  I  seem,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf  to  a  small, 
slender  and  very  white  hand,  "  I  seem  to  have 
fallen  into  the  habit  of  coming  here." 

"  It 's  never  too  late,"  observed  the  hand's  pro 
prietor  sagely,  "  to  form  good  habits.  Besides " 

she  puckered  her  brows  in  meditation  and  counted 
upon  the  fingers  of  that  same  hand. 

"  You  've  been  here  but  three  times  before,"  she 
announced. 

"  Three  ? "  he  questioned.  "  I  should  have 
thought  it  was  many  more,  do  you  know." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Miss  Mannering  haughtily. 

"  Dear  me,"  murmured  Colonel  von  Altdorf, 
blinking  placidly.  "  I  seem  to  have  said  something 
unfortunate.  You  look  annoyed.  "Whatever  it  was 
I  'm  sorry  for  it,  Mademoiselle.  Alas,  I  'm  unused 
to  the  society  of  ladies.  I  do  n't  know  what  to  say 
to  please  them.  They're  strange  things,  Madem 
oiselle,  passing  strange,  and  sweet,  upon  my  faith, 
passing  sweet.  Still  I  do  n't  know  what  to  say  to 
please  them." 


ii6    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  And  you  a  diplomatist ! "  sniffed  Miss  Man- 
nering. 

"  That,  Mademoiselle,  is  my  misfortune,  not  my 
fault."  protested  von  Altdorf  sadly.  "  I  was  put 
into  the  profession  while  still  very  young,  by  a 
misguided  parent. 

"  Do  you  know  ?  "  he  continued  presently,  "  it  is 
in  my  mind  that  I  came  here  for  a  purpose,  to  dis 
cuss  something  of  importance,  but  upon  my  word, 
the  thing  has  quite  gone  from  me.  I  do  n't  know 
what  it  could  have  been.  Perhaps  there  wasn't 
anything  at  all." 

"  Why  perhaps,  perhaps  1 "  cried  the  girl  with 
dramatic  astonishment,  "  perhaps  you  came  just  to 
see  me  !  Fancy  1 " 

"  That,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf,  tugging  at  his 
moustache,  "  is  quite  possible.  I  wonder  it  had  n't 
occurred  to  me  before.  Are  all  American  young 
women  brilliant,  Mademoiselle — as  well  as  beau 
tiful  ?  " 

"  All  of  them,"  nodded  the  truthful  Miss 
Mannering  gravely,  "  all  brilliant  and  all  very, 
very  beautiful.  You  should  visit  America,  Col 
onel." 

"  Alas,  Mademoiselle,"  protested  von  Altdorf, 
"  if  one  of  them,  and  only  a  little  one  at  that,  is 
sufficient  to  upset  my  peace  of  mind  what  should  I 
do  among  so  many  ?  A  man  loves  his  peace  of 
mind  at  two  and  forty,  Mademoiselle." 

Miss  Mannering  did  not  dispute  it.     She  looked 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    117 

at  the  rug.  It  was  a  very  good  sort  of  rug,  as 
rugs  go. 

"  How  is  the  Princess  ?  "  enquired  Colonel  von 
Altdorf  presently. 

"  She 's  living  in  a  bubble  of  happiness,  a  Spanish 
Castle  of  joy,"  said  the  girl.  "  Alas,  she  does  n't 
know  the  bubble  must  burst  and  the  castle  tumble 
about  her  ears.  She  thinks  she's  on  the  thresh- 
hold  of  a  heaven  that  will  last  her  life  long.  Ah, 
what  a  cruel  trick  it  was,  Colonel  von  Altdorf  !  " 

"  Necessity  is  always  cruel,  Mademoiselle,"  said 
the  diplomat.  "  Happiness  is  usually  a  bubble,  and 
joy  a  chateau  en  Espagne.  And,  as  every  one 
knows,  bubbles  must  burst  and  air  castles  fade 
away." 

"  She  was  greatly  shocked  when  the  Prince  burst 
into  the  garden  the  other  day,"  pursued  Miss  Man- 
nering.  "  She  can't  get  over  the  feeling  that  she 
has  known  him  or  seen  him  somewhere  before,  that 
he  has  played  some  part  in  her  life — indeed  it 's  far 
from  strange  !  Sir  Gavin  calls  it  by  some  long  and 
dreadful  name,  the  partial  recollection.  He  was 
quite  excited  over  it." 

"  But  she 's  better  in  a  general  way  ?  She 's 
stronger  ?  "  asked  von  Altdorf. 

"  Oh,  infinitely  better !  She 's  almost  her  old 
self  again.  The  colour  is  back  in  her  cheeks,  and 
the  roundness  to  her  neck — she's  gained  wonder 
fully  in  weight.  Ah,  yes,  she 's  almost  as  strong 
as  ever,  now,  just  in  these  few  days,  and  all  be- 


ii8    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

cause  she's  happy.  Oh,  Mr.  Creighton  told  me 
of  Mr.  Mallory's  duel  with  the  Prince  in  the  garden 
the  other  day.  It  must  have  been  wonderful." 

"  He 's  the  most  marvellous  swordsman  I  ever 
saw,"  said  von  Altdorf  warmly.  "  He  was  born  to 
it.  No  man,  even  with  the  career  that  Denis  has 
had,  could  acquire  such  skill  by  practice  only. 
It 's  beyond  words." 

"And  he  might  have  killed  the  Prince — and 
made  his  own  way  easy,"  mused  the  girl.  "  Mr. 
Creighton  told  me  that  for  one  little  moment  he 
thought  it  would  happen." 

"  Yes,"  said  von  Altdorf,  "  for  one  little  moment 
I  thought  so  too.  No  man  is  above  temptation. 
"We  saw  him  tempted,  and  by  Heaven,  we  saw  him 
put  temptation  away  as  few  men  could  have  done. 
But  as  for  that  there  are  few  men  like  him.  I  '11 
tell  you  something  I  saw  yesterday.  I  was  in  his 
studio  waiting  for  him  to  come  up  from  the  garden 
where  he  walked  with  the  Princess.  I  sat  in  a  big 
deep  chair  that  stands  in  a  rather  dark  corner,  and 
sitting  there  grew  drowsy  a  bit  so  that  I  did  n't 
hear  Denis  when  he  entered.  The  first  I  knew  he 
was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  in  the 
light  from  the  big  north  windows,  and  while  I  live, 
Mademoiselle,  I  hope  never  again  to  see  upon  a 
man's  face  such  a  look  of  hopeless  agony,  such  a 
struggle  of  the  greatest  love  a  man  can  own,  with 
the  call  of  honour  that  means  renunciation.  His 
soul  was  in  his  face,  Mademoiselle,  there  in  that 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    119 

moment  when  he  thought  himself  alone,  and  it  was 
a  soul  that  had  been  led  to  Heaven's  gate  and 
shown  what  was  within,  only  to  be  hurled  deep 
into  hell. 

"He  threw  himself,  face  downward,  upon  the 
big  divan  that  stands  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and 
lay  there  with  his  hands  over  his  eyes,  and  his 
shoulders  twisting  from  time  to  time. 

"I  dared  not  move,  show  myself,  for  his  own 
sake,  and  I  could  n't  get  away  without  his  hearing. 

"  Then,  after  a  time,  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  went 
across  the  room  to  a  little  cupboard  in  the  wall, 
which  he  opened.  He  took  out  a  bottle,  an  absinthe 
bottle,  and  glasses  and  a  carafe  of  water,  and  filled 
one  of  the  glasses,  sitting  at  a  table.  He  faced  the 
light  again  so  that  I  could  see  the  struggle  in  his 
face. 

"  Mademoiselle,  you  who  are  a  woman  carefully 
bred,  delicately  nurtured,  can  know  nothing,  appre 
ciate  nothing,  of  such  a  struggle,  the  struggle  of 
racked  and  quivering  nerves  for  the  relief  that  lies 
before  them,  of  a  will  weakened  by  battle,  of  a 
mind  ravaged  by  a  passion  that  it  knows  is  hopeless. 

"  I  say  he  sat  a  long  time  with  the  full  glass  in 
his  hand,  head  bent  a  bit  over  it,  every  nerve  in  his 
body,  as  I  knew  well,  shrieking  for  the  rest,  the 
calm,  the  ease,  that  a  few  glasses  of  that  liquor 
would  give  them. 

"  Then  all  at  once  he  gave  his  head  a  little  jerk 
and  tore  his  fingers  from  the  glass  with  an  effort. 


120   THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  *  "No  I '  he  cried,  quite  aloud.  '  No,  by  God,  no ! ' 
And  he  went  over  to  the  divan  again  and  threw 
himself  face  down  there  and  lay  still.  I  crept  out 
after  a  time  very  softly.  I  do  n't  think  he  heard 
me,  perhaps — indeed  I  hope,  he  was  even  asleep. 
But  my  heart  bled  for  him,  Mademoiselle.  He  is  a 
man ! " 

"  Poor  Mr.  Mallory !  "  cried  the  girl  softly.  "  Ah, 
poor  Mr.  Mallory !  My  heart  bleeds  for  him  too, 
Colonel.  What  will  become  of  him — when  it 's  all 
over?  Some  lives  seem  marked  for  tragedy,  don't 
they  ?  His  life  has  been  a  tragedy,  heaven  knows, 
young  as  he  is,  and  it  seems  as  if  it  must  be  a 
crueler  one  still.  Have  you  seen  anything  more  of 
those  men  who  came  to  spy  upon  the  Prince  ?  " 

Yon  Altdorf  shook  his  head. 

"  Nothing  since  Creighton  gave  them  such  a 
chase,  a  week  ago,"  said  he.  "  We  're  keeping  the 
closest  guard  upon  the  Prince.  He  never  stirs  out 
without  one  or  two  of  us  with  him.  They  '11  have 
to  be  bold  indeed  to  reach  him.  Still  I  sha'  n't  rest 
easy  till  the  Prince  is  back  again  in  Novodnia 
where  he  belongs.  Every  moment  of  his  stay  here 
is  keenest  danger  to  himself  and  to  the  state,  but 
stay  he  will  till  he  's  seen  the  Princess,  and  that 
MacKenzie  won't  yet  allow.  In  all  good  faith  I 
think  it  were  best  over  with  as  soon  as  may  be. 
She 's  strong  again,  and  every  day  that  passes 
leaves  her  deeper  and  deeper  in  love  with  Mr. 
Mallory,  and  he  with  her.  Let  'em  have  done  with 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    121 

it,  I  say.  Shock  it  will  be,  but  as  well  a  shock  now 
as  ever." 

"  Yet  we  all  shrink  from  the  point,"  said  the  girl, 
shaking  her  head  anxiously,  "even  Sir  Gavin.  It 
was  easy  to  enter  upon  the  trick,  easy  to  say  that 
some  time,  some  time  in  the  indefinite  future,  the 
truth  must  be  told,  the  matter  cleared  up,  but  when 
the  time  comes  near,  truth-telling  seems  difficult, 
Colonel.  One  realises  what  one  has  undertaken 
and  shrinks  from  what  may  follow.  It  won't  be  an 
easy  thing  to  do." 

"  Yet  it  must  be  done,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf. 
"  Ah,  well,  Mademoiselle,  it 's  Fate  that  plays,  not 
we,  and  it  will  help  no  one  that  we  sit  here  sighing 
and  shaking  our  heads.  Come,  will  you  play  for  me 
upon  the  piano  yonder  ?  I  hear  you  playing  some 
times  when  I  'm  in  the  garden  or  even  so  far  as  in 
the  studio,  and  I  love  music.  Perhaps  you  would 
sing  also  ?  " 

"  What  shall  I  sing  of  ?  "  asked  the  girl  running 
a  hand  up  and  down  the  keys  softly.  "  Of  war  and 
such  ? — '  arms  and  the  man  '  ?  Your  life  has  been 
full  of  warfare." 

"  "Why,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf  leaning  upon 
the  piano  with  his  folded  arms,  "  why,  of  any 
thing  you  will — still  I  've  no  mind  for  warfare  to 
day,  Mademoiselle.  Sing  rather  of — of  peace  and 
— love,  and  all  such." 

"  *  Of  peace  and — love  and  all  such '  ?  "  murmured 
the  girl,  "Are  peace  and— love  80  inseparable 


122    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

then,  sir  ?  Must  one  think  of  them  together  ? 
Does  love  mean  peace  ?  " 

"Why,  no,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf.  "No, 
Mademoiselle,  love  doesn't  always  mean  peace,  I 
fear.  Alas,  sometimes  it  means  a  sad  tumult  in  the 
heart,  a  lying  awake  o'  nights,  a  most  perverse 
restlessness  of  spirit.  Peace  ?  No,  love  is  warfare 
after  all.  Still — sing  to  me  of  love,  Mademoi 
selle!" 

"  Yet  you  said  the  other  day,"  persisted  the  girl, 
her  head  bent  over  the  keys  and  her  hands  wander 
ing  slowly  through  some  sweet  air,  "you  said  that 
love  had  n't — had  n't  come  your  way,  Colonel." 

"  It 's  never  too  late,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf, 
"to  form  good  habits.  I  have  it  on  the  best  of 
authority.  Love  may  come  even  at  two  and  forty 
— even  when  one's  poll  is  grizzled  and  one  clings  to 
one's  peace  of  mind.  Sing  to  me  of  love,  Mademoi 
selle." 

She  played  a  little  prelude,  and  sang, 

"  Out  upon  it :  I  have  loved 

Three  whole  days  together  ; 
And  am  like  to  love  three  more, 
If  it  prove  fine  weather." 

"  Ah,  Mademoiselle ! "  cried  Colonel  von  Altdorf. 
"  Do  I  deserve  that  ?  Can  you  not  be  kinder  ?  " 

And  she  sang,  very  sweet  and  low,  "  Love  in  my 
bosom  like  a  bee " 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  stood  by  the  piano  for  a  long 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    123 

time    after  she  had  finished,   silent  and  moody. 
Then  at  last  he  sighed  and  took  up  his  hat. 

"  This  love,  Mademoiselle,"  said  he,  "  is  a  strange 
thing,  strange  as  Fate.  I  've  wondered  at  it  and  at 
the  storms  it  brews,  for  many  years — I  'm  wonder 
ing  at  it  still,  wondering  the  more — but  not  at  the 
storms  it  brews.  I  thank  you  for  your  song, 
Mademoiselle,  I  shall  not  forget  it  soon." 


CHAPTER   X 

THE  week  which  followed  the  coming  of 
Prince  Karl  to  Paris  was  for  all  of  us,  I  think, 
a  time  of  strain,  of  inactive  waiting  for  we 
knew  not  what.  There  seemed  in  the  very  air  a 
sense  of  impending  ill,  vague,  unformed  and 
gloomy,  of  catastrophe  that  waited  upon  the  mor 
row.  Fate  played — as  von  Altdorf  would  say — 
but  played,  as  ever,  craftily,  held  her  trumps, 
bided  her  time,  and  smiled  at  us  inscrutably  across 
the  table. 

I  say  it  was  a  time  of  inaction,  yet  we  were  ever 
alert  in  our  guard  over  the  person  of  the  Prince. 
The  villains  who  lurked  watchful,  somewhere  in 
the  throngs  that  peopled  the  great  city,  should  lay 
no  hand  upon  him  by  fault  of  ours,  should  bring  no 
disaster  to  the  crown  of  Novodnia. 

He,  poor  gentleman,  passed  the  days  moodily 
enough,  in  all  faith,  commonly  in  the  apartment  of 
Colonel  von  Altdorf  in  the  Avenue  de  1'Observa- 
toire,  where  admittance  was  refused  every  one  save 
those  whom  von  Altdorf  himself  inspected  from 
the  anteroom ;  sometimes  with  the  others  of  us  in 
Mallory's  studio  which  had  grown  to  be  a  meeting- 
place,  a  sort  of  headquarters.  Indeed,  we  must 
sadly  have  disturbed  poor  Denis  in  his  work — for 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    125 

he  still  continued  his  connection  with  the  London 
paper  and  wrote  his  articles  and  reviews  as  before. 
The  pittance  he  received  gave  him  a  fair  living. 

Daily  the  Prince  renewed  his  siege  of  MacKenzie 
for  an  interview  and  explanation  with  the  Princess 
Eleanor,  and  daily  old  MacKenzie  put  him  off  with 
a  "  Not  yet,  sir  1  "Would  you  wreck  everything  ? 
Wait  till  she 's  stronger."  I  knew  that  Sir  Gavin 
dreaded  the  inevitable  exposure  as  he  had  never 
dreaded  anything  before.  He  felt  that  the  respon 
sibility  of  what  we  had  done  rested  most  heavily 
upon  himself,  and  he  shrank  day  by  day  from  the 
storm  that  must  some  time  break,  and  day  by  day 
put  off  the  Prince  upon  the  old  pretext,  even  after 
he  knew  that  the  pretext  was  of  no  weight  and 
that  Madame  would  never  be  better  able  to  bear 
the  shock. 

As  for  the  Prince,  he  won  our  respect  and  sincere 
pity  in  these  days,  if  never  our  love.  We  grew  to 
see  under  his  Southern  impulsiveness,  his  quick 
temper  and  volatile  moods,  the  real  man,  honourable, 
true  and  sincere,  a  soul  too  frail  for  the  weight  of 
responsibility  and  power  that  hung  upon  it,  a  na 
ture  too  weak  for  the  struggle  of  duty  and  love 
that  swayed  it.  He  loved  his  country — indeed,  at 
the  end  we  had  no  cause  to  doubt  that — and  above 
all  else  he  loved  the  woman  who  had  been  so 
strangely  torn  from  him  at  the  very  altar  steps. 
But  his  will  lacked  the  stern  strength  to  make  a 
choice  between  the  two  when  a  choice  was  de- 


126    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

manded.  He  would  neither  stay  at  the  post  of 
duty,  nor  throw  up  all  duties  and  responsibilities 
for  love.  Who  among  us  all  shall  condemn  him  ? 
To  some  the  good  God  gives  an  iron  will,  a  strength 
to  put  aside  temptation,  but  to  others  a  heart 
whose  claims  will  not  be  denied. 

Be  all  this  as  it  may,  we  grew  fond  of  his  High 
ness  in  those  days,  and  filled  with  an  infinite  pity 
for  him  that  softened  our  first  disgust  at  his  weak 
ness.  He  was  a  simple  gentleman  who  should 
never  have  been  called  to  a  station  which  he  hated 
and  which  was  far  beyond  his  stature. 

As  for  Denis,  he  met  the  Princess  Eleanor  each 
afternoon  in  the  garden,  save  one  day  when  it 
rained,  so  that  being  out  of  doors  was  impossible, 
and  the  Princess,  seized  with  a  perverse  whim  that 
they  should  see  each  other  nowhere  but  in  their 
walled  Paradise,  would  not  meet  him  at  all,  but 
kept  to  her  chamber,  and  only  sent  him  a  letter, 
very  thick  in  the  envelope.  Denis  spent  the  day 
over  it,  reading  it  again  and  again,  holding  it  in  his 
hands  when  he  did  not  read,  and  lifting  it  to  his 
face  that  he  might  inhale  the  faint  fragrance  of  the 
paper.  It  was,  I  think,  her  first  written  word  to 
him,  and  I  know  that  he  would  have  fought  for  it 
with  his  life— such  value  men  will  lay  upon  a  scrap 
of  paper  scrawled  with  black  I 

I  was  much  with  him  at  this  time,  for  that  love 
and  admiration  for  him  which,  later  on,  so  grew  in 
my  heart  that  I  must  place  him  before  all  the  other 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    127 

men  whom  I  have  known,  was  even  then  strong  in 
me.  I  think  no  one,  man  or  woman,  might  be  with 
Denis  day  by  day  without  loving  him.  He  was  a 
great  soul. 

If  the  Princess  Eleanor,  drinking  the  elixir  of 
love,  had  flushed  all  in  a  moment,  as  it  were,  into 
health  and  strength  and  rosy  happiness,  the  change 
in  Denis  was  equally  wonderful.  He  seemed 
another  man.  There  were  marks  of  the  old  life 
that  must  be  upon  him  to  his  grave,  but  the  un 
healthy  pallor  of  his  face  was  gone,  the  restlessness 
of  the  eyes,  the  hollows  in  the  cheeks,  the  disagree 
able  lines  of  cynicism,  of  dissipation,  of  reckless 
ness  about  the  mouth.  His  head  was  reared  high 
in  the  air  now,  his  step  firmer,  his  eyes  clear  and 
alert  and  quite  free  from  the  nervous  twitching 
that  had  spoiled  them  before.  Why,  even  his  smile, 
that  no  ill  living,  no  debauchery  had  seemed  ever 
to  touch,  took  on  a  tenderer  semblance,  a  sweeter 
charm.  Ah,  he  was  a  man ! 

As  for  the  drink,  he  showed  a  strength  that 
amazed  me.  No  man  who  has  for  years  habitually 
drunk  large  quantities  of  any  alcoholic  liquor  can 
suddenly  leave  it  quite  off  without  becoming  a  nerv 
ous  wreck,  but  I  think  that  Denis,  at  this  time, 
did  as  nearly  without  drink  of  any  sort  as  a  man 
might  do.  When  we  sat  at  a  cafe  he  no  longer 
called  for  absinthe  but  took  brandy  or  whiskey  in 
water,  and  very  little  of  it,  and  at  meals  he  used 
the  wine  most  sparingly,  Sometimes  in  the  studio, 


128    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

after  a  siege  of  racking  nerves  that  was  all  too 
evident,  he  would  take  a  single  glass  of  absinthe, 
but  quite  openly.  And  I  think  he  never  trusted 
himself  to  take  it  when  alone.  I  have  seen  many 
a  plucky  fight  against  besetting  vices  but  never  one 
so  plucky  as  this. 

But  it  was  Colonel  von  Altdorf  whose  appear 
ance  and  conduct  were,  during  these  days,  most  of 
a  mystery  to  me.  He  had  fallen  into  a  perverse 
humour  that  puzzled  us  all.  He  had  long  fits  of 
abstraction  from  which  he  would  rouse  himself  to 
growl  an  answer  to  some  one's  repeated  question. 
He  spoke  often  of  having  missed  much  happiness  in 
his  way  through  life,  and  of  how  a  single  man  was 
at  best  a  poor  thing  and  incomplete.  Also  he  took 
to  reading  certain  volumes  of  poetry  which  Denis 
had  about  the  studio,  and  I  think  he  memorised 
some  of  the  verses,  for  he  would  read  a  space,  then 
look  up  and  move  his  lips  as  if  repeating  the  lines. 

It  was  all  very  curious  and  most  unlike  von  Alt 
dorf.  I  spoke  to  Denis  of  it,  but  Denis  had  no 
eyes  for  other  men's  affairs  just  then,  he  was  busy 
with  his  own. 

"  Let  him  alone,  lad,"  said  Denis.  "  He 's  prob 
ably  in  love.  They  often  act  that  way — when  they 
take  it  late  in  life." 

"  But  for  the  love  of  Heaven  !  "  I  cried,  "  with 
whom  ?  " 

"  The  concierge,"  suggested  Denis. 

I  spoke  also  of  the  phenomenon  to  Miss  Jessica 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    129 

Mannering  upon  whom  I  took  frequent  occasion  to 
call.  Miss  Mannering  was  at  first  moved  to  ex 
treme  mirth.  Then  after  a  little  she  sighed  and 
smiled  and  touched  the  keys  of  the  piano  before 
which  she  was  sitting,  in  the  big,  gloomy,  stone- 
arched  chamber  that  MacKenzie  had  transformed 
into  a  sort  of  drawing  room.  And  she  sang  under 
her  breath  a  little  snatch  of  song,  "  Love  in  my 
bosom  like  a  bee " 

"  It  would  be  a  great  pity,"  said  Miss  Mannering, 
"  a  great  pity  if  Colonel  von  Altdorf  should  fall  in 
love  with  some  one  who — who  wasn't  worthy  of 
him,  did  n't  understand  him,  would  be  cruel  or  cold 
to  him.  There  are  n't  many  men  like  Colonel  von 
Altdorf." 

"That's  true,  by  Jove,"  said  I  warmly.  "Von 
Altdorf 's  one  of  the  best !  But  I  say,  why  in  the 
world  does  he  want  to  fall  in  love,  at  his  age  ?  " 

"  His  age !  "  cried  Miss  Mannering,  with  more 
heat  than  I  thought  necessary.  "  You  speak  as  if 
he  were  seventy  !  Men  are  mere  boys  till  forty," 
she  declared  unkindly. 

"  Oh,  are  they  though  ?  "  said  I.  "  I  suppose 
I  'm  expected  to  be  crushed.  Ah,  well,  I  shall  be 
forty  some  day.  And  now,  perhaps,  you  will  tell 
me  with  whom  von  Altdorf  can  be  in  love  ?  I  'm 
quite  at  a  loss — granting  that  he  is  in  love.  Per 
sonally  I  fancy  it 's  indigestion.  Denis  suggests  the 
concierge." 

"  You  and  Mr.  Mallory  are  such  wits  !  "  observed 

9 
V 


130    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Miss  Mannering  scathingly.  "  Just  because  a  man 
of  forty  or  forty-one  -  " 

"  Forty-two,"  said  I,  brutally. 

"  Conducts  himself,"  continued  Miss  Mannering, 
"  in  a  properly  serious  manner,  you  immediately 
accuse  him  of  being  in  love.  Well,  why  should  n't 
he  be  in  love  ?  Is  n't  he  a  brave  and  gallant  gen 
tleman  ?  Is  n't  he  a  faithful  friend  ?  Is  n't  he  the 
sort  of  man  a  woman  might  —  might  like  ?  Is  n't  he 
handsome  and  -  —  " 

"  Handsome  ?  "  I  interrupted.  "  Oh,  come  now, 
I  should  n't  call  von  Altdorf  handsome.  He  's  not 
ugly  exactly,  but  -  " 

"  He  is  most  certainly  handsome,"  said  Miss 
Mannering,  with  some  dignity.  "  Men  never  know 
when  other  men  are  attractive.  They're  always 
dangling  about  after  some  silly  girl." 

"  I  'm  dangling  about  after  you,  at  just  the  present 
moment,"  said  I,  "  and  I  'm  not  so  keen  on  talking 
about  von  Altdorf  all  the  time  either.  I  say  won't 
you  sing  something  to  me?  They  say  you've  a 
wonderfully  beautiful  voice.  Sing  something  soft 
and  pretty  —  something,"  said  I  sentimentally, 
"  about  love." 

"  I  do  n't  sing  love  songs,"  declared  Miss  Man 
nering. 

"  But,"  I  protested,  "  you  were  singing  a  bit  of 
one  just  a  moment  ago,  *  Love  in  my  bosom  like  a 


"  That—  that  's  different,"  said  she.     "  I  just  hap- 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    131 

pened  to  think  of  that.  It 's  a  song — I  sang  once 
for  a — very  dear  friend — a  very  dear  friend.  I 
would  n't  sing  it  for  any  one  else." 

"  Oh,  very  well  then,"  said  I.  "  I  'm  going  away 
— I  do  n't  think  I  like  you  any  more.  I  shall  go 
back  to  the  studio  and  watch  von  Altdorf's  evo 
lutions." 

But  at  the  door  of  the  room  I  ran  into  von  Alt 
dorf's  arms.  Von  Altdorf  favoured  me  with  a  melo 
dramatic  scowl. 

"  What—you  here  ?  "  said  he  gruffly. 

"  And  why  not  ? "  I  demanded,  but  just  then 
something  came  to  me.  I  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  of  them,  Miss  Jessica  Mannering  very  pink 
and  smiling  and  radiant.  She  had  n't  been  radiant 
while  I  was  there — and  von  Altdorf  with  the  facial 
expression  of  the  proverbial  small  boy  caught  steal 
ing  jam.  Then  I  went  out,  shaking  my  head,  and 
made  great  speed  to  the  studio. 

"  Denis  will  laugh  till  he 's  weak,"  said  I  glee 
fully.  But  Denis,  when  I  had  told  him,  said  only, 

"  The  lucky  devil !  Oh,  the  lucky,  lucky  devil ! " 
and  took  his  head  into  his  hands  muttering  still 
through  his  fingers,  "  The  lucky,  lucky  devil ! " 

Poor  old  Denis !  Some  people  seemed  never  to 
have  any  luck.  I  knew  of  what  he  was  thinking. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ELEANOR    of    Novodnia    came    down    the 
gravel  path  of  Paradise  and  her  eyes  were 
the  break  o'  day,  lights  that  did  mislead  the 
morn — if  only  it  had  n't  been  golden  afternoon. 

She  sang  in  a  little  low  voice,  as  one  sings  for 
very  happiness.  She  sang, 

"Teach  me,  only  teach,  Love! 

As  I  ought 

I  will  speak  thy  speech,  Love, 
Think  thy  thought  — 

"Meet  if  thon  require  it, 

Both  demands, 

Laying  flesh  and  spirit 

In  thy  hands. 

"That  shall  be  to-morrow, 

Not  to-night: 
I  must  bury  sorrow 
Out  of  sight! 

" — Must  a  little  weep,  Love, 

(Foolish  me!) 
And  so  fall  asleep,  Love, 
Loved  by  thee." 

Denis,  sitting  upon  the  old  stone  bench  by  the 
fountain,  stared  at  the  trickling  water  and  would 
not  turn  his  head.  He  gave  a  little  gasp  though, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    133 

and  his  heart  dropped  a  beat,  when  she  laid  her  two 
hands  suddenly  over  his  eyes,  standing  behind  him, 
and  demanded  whom  he  thought  she  possibly 
might  be.  They  were  cool  and  soft  and  firm,  the 
hands,  but  they  set  his  blood  to  jumping  as  if  they 
burned  him. 

"I  don't  know  who  you  are,"  he  declared  un 
truthfully,  "I  can't  imagine,  but  I  should  fancy 
you  are  probably  an  angel — you've  an  angel's 
hands — for  this  is  Paradise,  this  garden,  did  n't  you 
know  ?  where  no  one  but  angels  may  coine — saving 
one  sorry  knave  who  enters  by  the  grace  of  a  cer 
tain  angel,  a  sort  of  archangel,  who  has  pity  upon 
his  forlorn  state,  and  is  good  to  him — God  bless 
her ! " 

The  archangel  joined  the  sorry  knave  upon  the 
old  stone  bench. 

"  And  he  ?  "  she  asked  softly,  "  what  does  he  do 
in  return  for  the  certain  angel's — pity  ?  " 

Denis  dropped  his  face  into  his  hands. 

"  God  help  him ! "  he  groaned.  "  He  loves  her 
better  than  his  honour." 

"  No ! "  cried  the  Princess  Eleanor  sharply. 
"  Ah,  no,  no !  He  does  not,  he  must  not !  Ah,  take 
that  back  again,  Carlo!  You  love  your  honour 
more !  Say  that  you  love  your  honour  more  !  You 
loved  it  more  when  you  stayed  in  Novodnia  and 
would  n't  come  to  me.  You  love  it  more  now — say 
so,  Karl,  say  so !  It  would  n't  be  you  if  you  did  n't 
love  your  honour  better  than  anything  else  in  the 


134    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

world.  Oh,  of  course,  you  do  n't  mean  what  you 
said,  but — do  n't  say  it  any  more,  Carlo,  it — it  hurts 
me  somewhere — inside,  you  know.  It  isn't  like 
you." 

Denis  looked  up  into  her  face. 

"  If  ever "  he  began,  and  moistened  his  dry 

lips,  "  if  ever  you  should  find  that  I  'd — if  ever  I 
should  do  a  dishonourable  thing,  Eleanor,"  said  he 
steadily.  "  If  ever  I  should  take  an  unfair  advan 
tage  of  some  one — of  a  woman — of — of  you,  lie  to 
you,  deceive  you  about  an  important  thing  that 
meant  much  to  you — what  then,  Eleanor  ?  What 
then?" 

The  Princess  put  out  a  hand  and  laid  it  over  his 
lips. 

"  Do  n't  let 's  talk  about  such  things,  Carlo,"  said 
she.  "  They  soil  our  Paradise.  They  soil  you, 
even  the  mention  of  them.  You  could  n't  do  such 

a  thing  because  it  simply  is  n't  in  you If  you 

should  do  it — if  you  should — why  I  think  I  should 
— hate  you,  Karl,  yes  hate  you,  for  you  would  have 
blackened  all  my  world,  turned  me  out  of  Para 
dise." 

"Yes,"  said  Denis  Mallory  with  a  little  sigh, 
"  ah,  yes,  I  thought  you  would  say  that.  I  thought 
so — I — I  merely  wanted  to  know,  for — curiosity, 
you  see." 

"Well  you've  a  most  morbid  curiosity  then," 
cried  the  Princess  Eleanor,  "and  you'll  be  good 
enough  to  curb  it  after  this.  Curiosity  is  a  vice, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    135 

did  n't  you  know  ?  Oh,  dear  me,  yes !  It  gets  one 
into  shocking  trouble.  It  killed  the  cat,  you  know. 
What  cat  ?  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  cat,  just  any 
cat.  I  suppose  it  was  a  lady  cat  though,  to  be 
quite  just,  and  died  because  it  could  n't  find  out 
what  was  going  on  in  the  next  garden.  Cats  are 
that  way,  cats  and  women — and  some  men.  That 's 
for  you,  your  Serene  Highness." 

She  fell  silent  for  a  time,  looking  down  through 
the  garden  between  the  black  boled  trees. 

"Karl,"  she  began  after  a  little,  "why  do  we 
never  talk  of  what  we  're  going  to  do,  presently, 

when  I  'm  quite  well As  if  I  were  n't  now ! — 

and  we — we  go  away,  south  to  Novodnia  and  the 
Palace  in  Novodni?  Ah,  there's  the  sad  part, 
Carlo  mio!  Eealms  take  their  ruler's  time  and 
thought  and  care,  do  n't  they  ?  They  never  think 
of  the  Prince's  wife,  do  they  ?  It  never  occurs  to 
them  that  she 's  sitting  alone,  very  lonely  for  her 
Prince  who's  with  his  Ministers. — Ah,  if  you 
were  n't  the  Prince,  Carlo  ! " 

"  Yes — yes ! "  cried  Denis  Mallory,  looking  up 
with  a  strange,  eager  light  in  his  eyes.  "If  I 
were  n't  the  Prince,  Eleanor  ?  " 

"  If  you  were  n't  the  Prince,  Carlo,  if  you  had  no 
realm  to  govern,  no  enemies  to  fight,  no  duties  to 
worry  over ! — What  would  you  do,  Carlo,  if  you 
were  n't  the  Prince  nor  I  the  Princess  ?  " 

Mallory  threw  out  his  arms  half  fiercely,  gripping 
his  hands.  His  face  was  flushed  and  his  eyes  shone. 


136    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  If  I  were  n't  the  Prince  nor  you  the  Princess, 
Eleanor ! "  said  he,  "  if  I  'd  nothing  to  hold  me 
from  it,  nothing  to  stand  in  the  way  ?  If  I  were 
only  a  man  and  you  a  woman  ? — why  I  'd  come  to 
you,  here  in  our  Paradise,  one  day,  like  this.  I  'd 
whisper  in  your  ear  *  Dearest  of  everything,  what 
are  we  waiting  for,  you  and  I  ?  Listen !  To-night 
when  all 's  dark,  when  you  've  gone  to  your  room 
and  they  think  you  've  gone  to  your  bed,  when  the 
lights  are  out  and  the  servants  asleep,  come  away, 
very  softly,  to  make  no  noise,  oh,  very  softly! 
Come  out  into  the  garden  under  the  chestnut-trees. 
I  '11  be  waiting  for  you  by  the  fountain,  and  we  '11 
go,  hand  in  hand  down  under  the  trees,  down  to 
the  little  low  door  in  the  wall  that  gives  upon  the 
Boulevard.  We'll  unlock  the  door  and  let  our 
selves  out.  Then  we'll  close  it  again  very  care 
fully.  There  will  be  a  carriage  waiting  at  the  curb 
— and  the  broad  world  waiting  beyond,  the  broad 
world  to  pick  and  choose  from,  Eleanor.  Oh,  and 
a  man  to  care  for  you,  shelter  you,  guard  you  from 
ill,  who  loves  you  so  that  he  can't  speak  of  it  with 
out  a  sort  of  dizziness,  who  trembles  at  your  finger 
tips  ! — what  are  we  waiting  for,  you  and  I  ? ' " 

"  What  are  we  waiting  for,  you  and  I  ?  "  said  the 
Princess  Eleanor  in  a  half  whisper.  "  Ah,  if  you 
weren't  the  Prince  nor  I  the  Princess!  What 
would  you  say  to — the  woman  who  came  down 
through  the  garden  and  out  the  little  low  door  in 
the  wall,  with  you  ?  How  would  you  love  her  ?  " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    137 

"  How  should  I  love  her  ? "  cried  Denis  Mallory 
in  a  shaking  voice.  "  How  should  I  love  her, 
Eleanor  ?  How  shall  I  say  ?  Are  there  words  for 
such  things  ?  How  should  I  love  her  ?  Oh,  words 
beggar  love,  my  sweet !  They  must  be  the  same 
old  words  that  a  thousand  other  men  with  paltry 
souls  have  breathed  to  a  thousand  other  women 
whose  cheap  vanity  must  be  fed.  Should  I  drag 
her  to  their  low  level  with  set  phrases,  canting 
words  ?  Tell  her  that  her  eyes  are  stars,  and  her 
mouth  is  a  red  flower  afire,  and  her  cheeks  white 
roses  flushed  with  love  ?  How  should  I  love  her, 
Eleanor  ?  Madly  as  a  martyr  loves  the  cause  he 
dies  for,  tenderly  as  the  sunshine  loves  the  garden 
that  it  wakes  to  life,  as  constantly  as  the  tide  loves 
the  moon  that  it  follows  about  the  earth !  How 
should  I  love  her  ?  Why,  so  that  all  lowness,  all 
meanness,  all  deceit,  all  old  sorrows  and  old  sins 
must  be  laid  away,  left  utterly  behind,  so  that  my 
heart  were  a  rose  garden  for  her  to  walk  in,  my 
soul  a  shrine  with  her  image  over  the  altar !  Ah,  I 
should  be  a  man  with  her  beside  me,  Eleanor  !  " 

"  If  you  were  not  the  Prince  nor  I  the  Princess," 
said  she  in  a  low  hushed  voice  that  trembled  when 
she  spoke,  "  why  then,  you  would  be  the  King  and 
I  the  Queen,  King  and  Queen  of  all  the  great,  bright, 
beautiful  world!  Free  to  wander  hand  in  hand 
from  one  end  of  our  realm  to  the  other — and  the 
world  would  be  a  rose  garden  then,  Carlo,  for  all 
my  world  would  be  your  heart,  my  King.  Ah,  I 


138    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

should  be  the  humblest  queen  that  ever  lived,  for 
I  'd  ask  no  more  of  privilege  than  to  look  in  your 
eyes  and  see  the  love  there,  watch  your  smile  and 
see  how  bright  the  sun  shone.  The  winged  angels 
in  Heaven  must  go  envying  you  and  me — if  you 
were  not  the  Prince  nor  I  the  Princess !  " 

A  sparrow  swooped  to  the  fountain's  curb  before 
their  feet  and  gathered  a  wisp  of  straw,  a  loop  of 
cord.  His  mate  twittered  from  the  branches  above 
while  he  rose  with  his  burden. 

"Yonder  goes  a  king!"  cried  the  Princess 
Eleanor  softly.  "  And  his  queen  waits  and  watches 
for  his  home-coming.  They  're  building  a  palace." 

She  laid  her  head  against  the  man's  shoulder  and 
tears  glittered  over  her  cheeks. 

"  See,  there  he  goes  again,  his  Majesty !  His 
queen  is  with  him  this  time.  She  would  n't  bear 
him  out  of  her  sight — how  she  loves  him  1  How 
she  plumes  her  poor  little  grey  feathers  to  look  well 
in  his  eyes !  His  heart  is  all  her  world." 

"  If  I  were  not  the  Prince  nor  you  the  Princess  !  " 
said  Denis  Mallory. 

"  The  night  will  come,"  she  whispered,  "  and  I 
shall  go  to  my  room.  After  a  time  the  servants 
will  be  in  their  beds  and  the  lights  out.  The  foun 
tain  will  be  waiting  here  and  the  little  closed  door 
in  the  wall.  The  carriage  will  be  waiting  outside, 
a  whole  rank  of  carriages,  and  all  the  wide  world 
beyond." 

She  raised  her  head  from  his  shoulder  and  turned, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    139 

sitting,  so  that  she  leaned  against  him  and  her 
hands  lay  folded  upon  her  breast.  Her  breath  was 
warm  on  his  lips  and  she  looked  into  his  eyes. 

Mallory's  heart  gave  a  great  leap  and  stood  quite 
still.  The  blood  went  from  his  face. 

« You— you 'd— go ? "  he  faltered.  "You'd— 
go?" 

"  What  are  we  waiting  for,  you  and  I  ? "  whis 
pered  the  Princess  Eleanor.  "  Shall  we  never  see 
our  kingdom  ?  Life  o'  my  soul  your  heart  jumps 
under  mine  !  Shall  we  trade  Paradise  for  a  crown  ?  " 
She  dropped  her  face  upon  his  breast  and  a  coil  of 
her  hair  lay  fragrant  against  his  lips. 

"  Aye,"  said  he  in  a  queer  hoarse  whisper,  and 
his  eyes  stared  over  her  head  down  among  the  trees 
of  the  garden.  "Aye  we  could  go,  and  no  one 
stop  us,  no  one  find  us  and  bring  us  back.  We 
could  go  very  far  away  where  they  'd  never  think 
to  look  for  us,  very  far  away  to  the  other  side  of  the 

world That 's  better  than — than  Novodnia  I 

Would  you  dare  it,  Eleanor  ?  Would  you  come 
with  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes ! "  said  the  voice  muffled  upon  his  breast. 

Mallory  gave  a  little  exultant  cry,  a  little  nervous 
exclamation  of  triumph. 

"Shall  we  trade  Paradise  for  a  scruple?"  he 
cried.  "  Is  n't  a  heaven  like  that  worth  more  than 
a  point  of — a  point  of — honour  ?  Ah  !  " 

The  Princess  raised  her  head  quickly  from  his 
breast.  His  arm  about  her  had  slackened  a  bit. 


140    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  A  point  of — honour  ?  "  said  the  Princess  slowly. 
""Why,  it  is  a  point  of  honour — isn't  it,  Carlo? 
Why  I  've  been  a  bit  mad — I  think." 

She  passed  a  hand  across  her  eyes  and  gave  her 
head  a  little  shake  as  if  she  would  rid  herself  of  a 
dream,  a  vision. 

"  A  point  of  honour !  Of  course  it 's  honour  ! 
Carlo,  Carlo,  I  thought  for  the  time  of  nothing  but 
what  might  be  before  us  out — out  yonder  in 
the  world.  I  never  thought  what  going  away 

meant Oh,  I  was  mad,  Carlo  mio,  drunk 

with  love.  I  was  dreaming  1 " 

"  And  why  not  ? "  cried  Mallory  frowning  out 
over  her  fiercely  as  if  some  one  stood  there  accu 
sing  him.  "  God  in  Heaven,  why  not  ?  Why 
sha'  n't  we  take  what  we  may  when  it 's  put  before 
us  ?  God  in  Heaven,  why  not  ?  Have  I  been  so 
happy,  so  lapped  in  content,  that  I  should  throw 
away  my  only  chance  for  happiness  ?  Think  of 
the  life  I've  led!  Ah-h-h,  think  of  it!  Shall  I 
throw  heaven  away  for  what  the  world  calls 
honour  ?  Come  with  me,  Eleanor  I  Ah,  come 
with  me  I  We  '11  live  such  a  life,  such  a  life  1 " 

But  the  girl  only  clung  to  him,  looking  up  into 
his  face  anxiously,  questioningly. 

"I  know  what  the  life  would  be,  Karl,"  she 
said  softly.  "  Oh,  I  know  !  I  dare  n't  let  myself 
think  of  it,  long.  Don't  I  know  what  it  would 
be?  But  wouldn't  we  be  sorry — after  a  time? 
Would  n't  we  regret  breaking  with  our  honour 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    141 

It's  almost  all  we  have,  ici  bas,  isn't  it,  dear? 
Honour!  How  would  a  whole  lifetime  founded 
upon  dishonour  seem,  I  wonder  ?  "Would  n't  we  be 
sorry  ?  I  do  n't  know,  as  I  live,  I  do  n't  know, 
Karl.  You  must  decide  for  us  both.  If  you  want 
me  to  go,  I  '11  go,  for  I  'm  very  weak.  I  'm  drunk 
with  love  still,  I  'm  full  of  what  that  careless,  free 
life  might  be,  our  Paradise.  You  must  decide, 
dear.  Whatever  you  say,  I  '11  do.  I  '11  be  the  wife 
of  a  common  gentleman,  or  I  '11  be  the  wife  of  a 
busy  Prince.  Choose  for  me,  Karl." 

Mallory  put  her  from  him,  gently,  and  rose  to  his 
feet  and  went  over  to  the  little  fountain,  and  stood 
there  with  his  back  to  the  Princess,  fighting  his 
fight. 

I  think  he  knew  what  the  end  must  be.  I  think 
he  had  known  from  the  first  moment  when  he  had 
put  the  thing  sanely  to  his  judgment,  but  the  great 
passion  of  love  that  he  bore  the  Princess  fought 
bitterly  for  mastery  of  him,  painted  in  cruelly  glow 
ing  tints  the  life  that  lay  open  to  his  choice,  the 
possession  that  must  otherwise  be  lost  to  him  utterly 
— all  for  what  the  world  calls  honour. 

He  turned  back  toward  the  Princess  Eleanor 
with  a  hopeless  little  gesture,  and  his  head  drooped. 

"  If  there 's  any  honour  left  to  such  a  man  as  I, 
Eleanor,"  said  he  wearily,  "  it  is  n't  of  much  con 
sequence,  and  I  suppose  I  should  not  hesitate  to 
chuck  it  over  if  the  price  were  high  enough,  but 
you  've  laid  your  honour  in  my  hands,  dear,  and  I 


142    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

may  n't  soil  it.  Some  day — later  on,  you  '11  know 
what  I  'm  giving  up." 

But  the  Princess  came  to  him,  swiftly,  and  put 
out  her  arms  over  his  shoulders  so  that  her  hands 
held  the  back  of  his  head,  and  kissed  him,  and  laid 
her  head  once  more  upon  his  breast. 

"I  knew  what  you'd  choose,  dear  heart,"  she 
cried  very  low.  "  Ah,  I  knew  !  Honour  binds  us 
both,  Carlo,  does  n't  it  ?  And  we  must  stay.  You 
could  not  love  me  dear  so  much,  loved  you  not 
honour  more.  It 's  the  busy  Prince,  then,  is  n't  it, 
dear  ?  Still,  I  shall  be  your  wife.  It  is  n't  as  if  we 
were  to  part,  so  do  n't  let 's  be  so  solemn  over  it. 
I  'm  still  your  wife,  Karl." 

"  Ah,  yes,  yes,"  said  Denis  looking  away.  "  Yes 
you  '11  still  be  my — wife.  It  is  n't  as  if  we  were  to 
part.  Come,  Eleanor,  you  must  go  in.  The  sun  is 
low  and  it 's  growing  cool.  Come,  or  MacKenzie 
will  say  that  I  'm  not  taking  proper  care  of  you." 

Under  the  kind  shelter  of  the  old  refectory 
porch  she  raised  her  face  to  him  and  he  kissed  her  lips. 

"  You  must  remember — later  on,  Eleanor,"  said 
he — his  voice  still  sounded  weary  and  overwrought 
— "  remember  that  I  gave  up  what — what  you 
offered  me — that  I  was  n't  quite  so  despicable  as  I 
might  have  been.  Ah,  you  loveliest  thing  in  all 
God's  great  world,  how  I  love  you !  Heart's  soul, 
how  I  love  you ! "  And  he  turned  and  left  her  and 
went  down  through  the  long  garden  with  his  head 
hanging  low. 


CHAPTER  XII 

DENIS  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  studio  in 
dustriously  occupied  in  blowing  smoke 
rings — at  which  art  I  am  believed  to  be  an 
adept.  And  indeed  it  is  a  harmless  pastime,  I  pro 
test. 

It  was  near  noon  and  Denis  had  been  hard  at 
work  all  the  morning  with  his  weekly  article  for 
the  London  paper.  A  quite  imposing  pile  of  written 
sheets  lay  before  him  on  the  table. 

Then  von  Altdorf  stamped  into  the  room  scowling 
most  portentously. 

"  The  Prince  not  here  ?  "  he  snapped  as  if  he  sus 
pected  us  of  having  stuffed  away  his  Highness  of 
Novodnia  under  the  divan  or  in  a  closet. 

"No,  he  hasn't  been  in  to-day,"  said  Denis  be 
tween  rings. 

"  Well  then,"  cried  von  Altdorf  angrily,  "  I  'd 
like  to  know  where  the  devil  he  is !  and  why  the 
devil  he  leaves  his  rooms  without  my  knowledge 
and  without  any  word  as  to  where  he 's  going ! 
It 's  enough  to  exasperate  a  saint !  " 

"  Tut,  tut,  man,  man ! "  said  Denis,  with  an 
amused  laugh.  "Sit  down,  and  calm  yourself. 
I  'm  not  sure  but  your  language  is  lese  majeste.  I 
shall  speak  to  the  Prince  about  it,  My  word !  one 


144    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

might  think  the  Prince  a  naughty  child  or  an 
erring  servant.  Do  you  feed  him  and  tuck  him 
into  his  bed  o'  nights,  von  Altdorf  ?  " 

But  von  Altdorf  was  in  no  mood  for  jest. 

"  You  would  n't  think  it  so  dashed  funny  if  he 
were  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  those  devils  who 
tracked  him  here,  would  you  ? "  he  growled. 
"Well,  that's  just  what  he'll  do  if  he  persists  in 
going  about  alone  and  unprotected.  Do  n't  you  be 
lieve  for  a  moment  that  because  we  have  n't  seen 
them  in  a  long  while  they  're  not  dogging  every 
move  he  makes.  That  we  have  n't  seen  them  only 
proves  them  the  cleverer." 

Denis  blew  a  big  ring  and  drove  a  little  one 
through  it.  He  smiled  delightedly  upon  his  work. 

"They  won't  touch  the  Prince,"  said  he  care 
lessly. 

"  Won't Oh,  do  n't  be  an  ass  !  "  cried  the 

disgusted  diplomat. 

Denis  shood  his  head. 

"  No,  they  won't  touch  the  Prince,"  he  repeated. 
"  I  do  n't  believe  they  're  even  keeping  more  than  a 
casual  eye  upon  him.  How  much  do  you  suppose 
their  cause  would  be  worth  in  Novodnia  if  it  were 
known  that  they  'd  kidnapped  or  killed  the  Prince  ? 
Man,  the  populace  would  rise  up  and  chase  every 
Pavelovitch  follower  into  the  Danube !  No,  no, 
they  're  no  such  fools  as  that.  They  want  to  keep 
Karl  out  of  the  country,  all  right  enough,  but  they 
want  to  keep  him  out  seemingly  at  his  own  volition, 


If  you'll  think  it  over  a  bit  you  'd  see  that  they  'd 
only  ruin  their  cause  by  harming  or  killing  him." 

"  You  've  missed  your  vocation,  lad,"  said  Colonel 
von  Altdorf  with  a  half  sneer.  "  You  belong  to  the 
diplomatic  service — or  the  secret  police.  You  've  a 
keen  mind."  But  I  could  see  that  he  was  thinking 
for  all  that,  and  half  convinced. 

"And  whom  then,"  he  persisted,  "whom  then 
should  you  think  they  're  after,  my  acute  young 
friend,  if  not  the  Prince  ?  " 

Denis  dropped  his  eyes  and  a  sudden  shade 
passed  over  his  face. 

"  If  they  're  after  any  one  at  all,"  said  he,  "  it 's 
some  one  whose  abduction  would  keep  the  Prince, 
of  his  own  will,  away  from  Novodnia  in  search  for 
them  till  he  should  run  them  down.  But  this 
person,  I  may  add,  is  being  uncommonly  well 
guarded." 

Yon  Altdorf  gasped. 

"  You  mean ? "  he  cried.  "  You  mean 

the " 

"I  mean  whomever  you  like,"  said  Mallory, 
"  but  your  friends  Steinbrticke  and  company  may 
as  well  go  back  to  Novodnia.  They  won't  get 
what  they  're  after." 

There  were  hurried  steps  without  the  door  and 
MacKenzie  burst  into  the  room  panting  and  di 
shevelled.  His  big,  square  face  was  mottled  red 
and  white.  His  eyes  showed  an  excitement  that  I 
had  never  yet  seen  in  them,  and  he  stood  before  us 


146    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

staring  and  breathing  hard.  His  mouth  worked  as 
if  he  would  speak  but  could  not. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  was  up  in  an  instant,  his 
face  full  of  a  nameless  fear.  He  was  thinking,  I 
knew,  of  the  absent  Prince.  He  put  out  a  shaking 
hand  upon  MacKenzie's  arm. 

"  What  is  it,  man  ?  "  he  cried  sharply.  "  What 
is  it  ?  What 's  wrong  ?  For  God's  sake,  can't 
you  speak  ?  What 's  the  matter  ?  " 

MacKenzie  let  himself  down  into  a  chair,  and 
his  chin  sank  upon  his  breast. 

"  He 's  told  her ! "  said  he.  "  The  Prince  has 
told  her ! " 

There  was  a  swift,  hoarse  cry  from  Denis  Mai- 
lory,  a  cry  that  brought  us  all  to  our  feet.  He  was 
standing  by  the  table  with  the  chair  in  which  he 
had  sat  gripped  in  one  hand,  lifted  far  from  the 
floor.  His  face  was  quite  white,  jaw  set,  lips  a 
straight,  thin  line,  and  his  eyes  burned  under 
lowered  brows.  He  stood  so,  leaning  forward  a 
bit,  staring  at  MacKenzie's  bowed  head  for  several 
seconds,  I  should  think.  Then  all  at  once  he  fell 
back  into  his  seat,  seemed  to  collapse,  crumple 
together,  and  laid  his  arms  upon  the  table,  and 
dropped  his  head  upon  them.  His  shoulders 
twisted  and  heaved. 

I  think  that  for  the  time  the  minds  of  all  of  us 
were  wholly  with  him  and  that  we  gave  little  or  no 
thought  to  the  stricken  Princess. 

I  caught  von  Altdorf's  eyes  and,  as  I  live,  they 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    147 

were  filled  with  tears,  and  his  brows  were  twisted 
and  drawn  in  grief.  Perhaps  my  own  were  like 
them.  I  take  no  shame  for  it.  He  went  across 
to  the  table  and  bent  over  the  man  who  lay  there. 
He  slipped  an  arm  about  the  bowed  shoulders. 

"  Denis,  old  lad ! "  said  he.  Could  that  be  von 
Altdorf 's  voice  ?  It  was  gentle  as  a  woman's ! 
"  Why,  dear  old  lad,  it  had  to  come.  You  knew  it 
had  to  come.  Do  n't  let  it  knock  you  under.  God 
knows,  lad,  we  're  all  sorry  enough  for  the  whole 
wretched  business  ;  and  God  knows  we  all  wish  it 
could  end  otherwise — but  it  can't.  There  never 
was  a  chance  that  it  could,  not  an  honourable  chance. 
Come,  lad,  you  've  played  a  man's  part,  play  the 
man  now !  You  're  losing  what 's  all  the  world  to 
you.  Aye,  I  know,  I  know,  but  you've  made  a 
trio  of  friends  here  that  '11  stand  by  you  to  the  last 
ditch. — Their  hearts  are  sore  for  you,  lad. — Come, 
buck  up !  There 's  much  to  do  yet.  The  game 's 
not  over  by  a  long  time." 

Denis  raised  his  head  from  his  arms.  His  face 
was  quite  white  and  very  haggard,  but  there  was 
no  trace  of  feeling  upon  it.  Then  he  drew  a  long 
-breath,  stretching  his  arms  outward,  and  was  his 
old  self  again,  save  that  there  was  no  smile  upon 
his  lips  nor  light  in  his  eyes,  but  only  an  utter 
calm. 

He  went  over  to  MacKenzie,  who  had  left  his 
seat  and  was  moving  restlessly  about  the  room. 
He  took  him  by  the  shoulders  and  looked  into  his  face. 


148    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  How  does — how  does  she  take  it  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Was  she— badly— shocked  ?  Too  badly  ?  " 

Old  MacKenzie  looked  away. 

"  She 's — much — incensed  against  ye,  lad,"  said 
he  gently.  "  She 's  a  bit  unreasonable — just  now. — 

She  won't  see  that  the  thing  had  to  be  done 

Ye — would  n't  best  try  to  see  her — now." 

"  Yes,  yes  ! "  said  Denis,  impatiently.  "  Yes, 
yes,  I  know  all  that — of  course  she  thinks  me  a 

blackguard — I  know  all  that Why,  in  God's 

name,  should  n't  she  ? — But  how  has  she  taken  the 
shock  ?  Will  it  do  her  great  ill  ?  Will  she  bear  it 
safely  ?  Tell  me  if  you  think  she  '11  get  over  it." 

His  only  thought  seemed  to  be  for  her  safety 
and  welfare — to  make  sure  that  she  would  bear  the 
strain. 

"  Why,  as  for  that,"  said  MacKenzie,  "  yes,  lad,  I 
think  she'll  weather  it.  She's  strong  and  well. 
She 's  able  to  meet  a  great  shock.  'T  is  her — her 
resentment  an'  sense  o'  wrong  that 's  keeping  her 
up  now  in  the  worst  of  it.  She 's  very  angry  an' 
her  hurt  pride  is  all  in  her  thoughts.  What  it  will 
be  when  the  full  realisation  comes  to  her  later,  only 
God  knows,  but  I  think  she  '11  weather  it.  She  has 
great  reserve  strength,  an'  as  I  've  said  she 's  very 
angry.  Anger  is  a  buffer  to  grief,  of  which  no  one 
but  a  medical  man  appreciates  the  value." 

Denis  went  back  to  his  table  and  rested  his  head 
upon  his  hands. 

"  That 's  all  that  matters,"  said  he  wearily,  "  just 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    149 

that  she  comes  through  it  safely,  that  she  takes 
no  lasting  harm.  The  rest  is — why  the  rest  is — 
nothing." 

Then  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door  and  the 
Prince  Karl  of  Novodnia  entered.  He  came  into 
the  room  with  a  certain  lingering  hesitation,  and 
glanced  up  at  our  faces  one  by  one,  furtively  under 
his  brows,  as  if  he  feared  what  his  reception 
might  be. 

Indeed  he  met  no  friendly  glance  nor  welcoming 
eye.  Colonel  von  Altdorf's  face  was  set  and  hard, 
MacKenzie  lowered  upon  him  gloomily,  and  I  looked 
away.  Only  Denis  rose  at  once  and  spoke  with  his 
ordinary  courtesy  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

"  Pray  sit  down,  sir,"  said  he.  "  Sir  Gavin  has 
just  been  telling  us  that  you  have  had  an  interview 
with  the  Princess  Eleanor.  Our  task  then,  I  take 
it,  is  nearly  at  an  end." 

The  Prince  dropped  into  a  chair  and  his  eyes 
wandered  dully  about  the  room,  avoiding  our  faces. 
He  seemed,  in  truth,  little  like  a  man  who  has  just 
claimed  his  wife  after  months  of  separation.  In 
deed  he  appeared  in  the  very  depths  of  depression. 
He  sat  for  a  time  in  gloomy  silence,  that  no  one  of 
us  offered  to  break,  but  at  last  the  hostility  about 
him  seemed  to  reach  his  nerves,  rouse  him  to  a  sul 
len  defiance.  He  looked  up  at  MacKenzie  and  his 
face  flushed. 

"You  show  small  approval  of  what  I've  done, 
sir,"  said  he. 


150    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

The  Scotsman  turned  upon  him  like  an  angry 
lion. 

"  Approval  ?  "  he  cried,  towering  above  the  sulky 
figure  in  the  chair,  "  approval,  say  you  ?  By  the 
livin'  God,  sir,  't  is  no  thanks  to  you  that  the  Prin 
cess  Eleanor  is  alive  to-day !  You  've  done  all  ye 
could  to  make  my  treatment  an'  the  efforts  of  all 
these  gentlemen  here,  of  no  avail.  First  ye  come 
here  with  no  manner  o'  warnin'  an'  though  't  is  ex 
plained  to  ye  wi'  care  what  we  're  tryin'  to  do  in 
the  matter  o'  saving  yer  wife's  reason,  ye  try  to 
break  in  upon  her  the  first  instant — through  a  silly 
jealousy  worthy  o'  a  child.  Ye  try,  furthermore, 
to  kill  a  gallant  gentleman  who 's  givin'  his  time  to 
your  service  an'  hers,  an'  who  spares  your  life,  as  by 
heaven  I  'd  never  ha'  done.  Then  lastly,  full  o'  the 
same  silly  jealousy,  no  doubt,  ye  make  yer  way  into 
my  house  an'  blurt  out  the  whole  truth  like  an 
eediot,  careless  o'  whether  yer  wife  can  bear  the 
shock  or  no.  Before  God,  sir,  't  is  all  I  can  do  not 
to  lay  hands  upon  ye ! " 

The  Prince's  face  blazed  crimson. 

"  Colonel  von  Altdorf,"  said  he, "  will  you  remind 
this — gentleman,  to  whom  he  is  speaking  ?  " 

Yon  Altdorf  rose  at  once  to  his  feet  and  saluted. 

"  Sir  Gavin,"  he  said  coldly,  "  my  duty  to  my 
master  compels  me  to  warn  you  that  your  language 
is  lacking  in  proper  respect." 

His  tone  and  his  manner  shifted  the  rebuke  from 
MacKenzie  and  laid  it  upon  the  Prince.  It  was 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    151 

quite  plain  where  his  sympathy  lay,  and  the  Prince 
dropped  his  eyes  to  the  floor. 

"  Ye  cannot  frighten  me,  sir,"  said  the  big  Scots 
man  sternly,  "ye  may  as  well  save  your  breath. 
I  'm  a  British  subject  an'  as  such  owe  ye  no  alle 
giance.  'T  is  man  to  man,  Karl  o'  Novodnia,  an'  I 
tell  ye  again  ye  have  done  all  in  your  power  to  undo 
what  we  gentlemen  have  been  tryin'  to  accomplish, 
in  your  service.  I  tell  ye  ye  've  no  right  to  go  to 
my  house  in  my  absence  an'  trouble  a  patient  o' 
mine,  wife  or  no  wife.  She's  my  patient  while 
she's  under  my  charge  an'  I'm  no  in  the  habit 
o'  havin'  my  methods  interfered  with.  In  the 
proper  time  the  truth  ye  blurted  out  to-day  would 
ha'  been  broken  to  her  gently,  gradually,  by  the 
proper  people  an'  all  o'  the  shock  possible,  spared 
her.  Ye  have  spared  her  nothing,  by  heaven !  An* 
I  '11  not  answer  for  the  consequences.  I  wash  my 
hands  o'  the  matter  here  an'  now.  Ye  ha'  brought 
my  skill  an'  plans  and  care  all  to  naught.  I  wonder 
are  ye  proud  o'  your  work ! " 

The  Prince  of  Novodnia  raised  his  bent  head  and 
tried  to  square  his  huddled  shoulders. 

"  That  will  do,  sir,"  said  he,  with  a  sort  of  pa 
thetic  dignity,  a  sort  of  lonely,  friendless  sadness 
that  touched  my  sympathy. 

"That  will  do,  sir.  You  make  yourself  quite 
clear,  and  it  is  quite  clear  also  that  these  gentlemen 
feel  as  you  do.  I  dare  say  you  are  right  but  I — I 
cannot  bear  any  more  just  now."  He  looked  from 


152    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

one  face  to  another  with  a  pitiful  half  eagerness, 
as  though  he  searched  for  a  ray  of  feeling,  of  en 
couragement. 

"  I  give  you  my  word,"  said  he,  "  that  when  I 
left  the  Avenue  de  1'Observatoire  this  morning  I  had 
no  thought  of  attempting  to  see  the  Princess,  no 
thought  save  of  coming  here  in  the  ordinary  fash 
ion.  It — it  was  a  sudden  impulse,  an  overwhelming 
impulse  that  could  not  be  denied.  I  tell  you  I  have 
waited  till  endurance  cracked.  I  have  been  put  off 
day  by  day  with  promises  of  the  near  future.  I  've 
seen  myself  no  nearer  the  goal  than  when  I  came 
to  Paris,  another  man  taking  my  place,  winning  my 
wife's — my  wife's — care — nay  sir,  I  impute  to  you 
no  blame !  I  do  not  question  your  honour  or  your 
good  faith — do  not  misunderstand  me !  I  could 
bear  it  no  longer!  Rash  I  may  be,  gentlemen, 
headstrong  and  careless,  too  little  thoughtful  of  the 
harm  I  may  do,  but — I  love  my  wife  and  my  love 
has  wrecked  my  judgment.  If  I  have  brought 
grief  to  her,  I  must  be  an  equal  sufferer,  for  as  I 
live,  I  think  I  shall  never  win  my  wife's  love. 
Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  have  you  nothing  but  con 
demnation  for  me  ?  " 

"  Aye,  sir,  pity,  pity  !  "  cried  Denis,  springing  up 
and  going  over  to  him,  while  the  others  of  us  sat 
in  sullen  silence.  "  Pity — and  understanding,  sir  ! 
There  is  no  one  of  us  who  can  swear  that  he  would 
have  done  otherwise  in  your  place.  Sir  Gavin  is 
angry  that  his  care  has  come  to  nothing,  and  we 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    153 

others — why,  a  little  aghast  that  our  plans  have 
been  so  suddenly  overturned,  but — shall  a  man  mad 
with  love  be  reasonable  or  think  of  consequences  ? 
Indeed  I  feel  for  you,  sir,  if  none  of  these  gentle 
men  do  the  same.  Our  trick  could  have  endured 
but  little  longer  at  the  best.  Come,  sir,  courage, 
courage!  If  the  Princess  seems  unready,  at  the 
moment,  to  yield  you  her — her  love,  why  time  will 
do  everything.  She  '11 — she  '11  love  you  yet.  I — I 
feel "  But  his  voice  was  slipping  from  his  con 
trol,  shaking  dangerously,  and  he  turned  about 
quickly  and  went  over  to  the  window  that  gave 
upon  the  garden,  and  stood  there  with  his  face 
against  the  glass.  I  slipped  an  arm  over  his  shoul 
ders  and  stood  with  him. 

"  By  my  faith  in  God,  Denis,"  said  I,  and  my 
voice  was  no  steadier  than  his,  "  you  're  the  bravest 
man  and  the  truest  gentleman  in  the  world.  You 
shame  us  all !  "  I  saw  his  face  and  turned  my  eyes 
away. 

"  She  '11  never  love  the  Prince,  Denis,"  said  I 
after  a  pause.  I  thought  it  might  be  a  ray  of  com 
fort  to  him  in  his  darkness. 

"  She  must !  "  he  cried.  "  God  help  us  both  ! 
She  must !  It 's  her  only  hope  of  happiness.  She  '11 
turn  to  him  in  her  utter  disgust  of  me,  turn  to  him 

for  shelter What  do  I  matter  if  only  she 's 

happy,  Ted  ?  That 's  all  that  counts,  just  that  she 
may  be  happy !  Ah,  yes,  she  '11  come  to  love  the 
Prince,— in  time," 


154    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

But  I  shook  my  head. 

"  She  '11  love  you  while  she  lives,  Denis,"  I  said, 
"  as  you  '11  love  her — and  that 's  something." 

"  As  I  '11  love  her,"  said  he  very  low,  and  staring 
out  into  the  garden  that  was  Paradise  no  longer. 

"  Why,  yes,  Teddy,  that 's  something Ah,  no, 

no,  it  must  n't  be  true — it  won't  be  true !  Do  n't 
try  to  comfort  a  chap,  Teddy.  I  shall  get  on — 
somehow." 

And  behind  us,  in  the  room,  I  heard  the  three 
others  talking,  old  MacKenzie  in  a  moderated  voice, 
the  Prince  very  wearily  as  if  he  saw  his  dream 
shattered  forever,  von  Altdorf  anxiously,  and  urg 
ing  his  master  to  return  to  JSTovodnia  where  the 
need  for  him  was  so  desperate. 

Fate  had  played  one  of  her  trumps — but  only 
one. 


OHAPTEK  XIII 

AND  this  is  how  the  thing  that  had  set  all 
our  plans  at  naught  came  about.  Miss 
Jessica  Mannering  was  in  the  great,  gloomy, 
stone-arched  chamber  which  had  been  made  into  a 
reception  and  music  room.  She  had  been  arrang 
ing  some  jonquils,  a  great  yellow  cluster  of  them, 
in  a  bronze  jar  upon  the  piano,  and  was  sitting  be 
fore  that  instrument  idly  touching  the  keys.  Her 
fingers  strayed  unwittingly  into  a  certain  quaint 
old  song,  a  madrigal  of  Lodge's,  "Love  in  my 

bosom  like  a  bee "  which  seemed  to  rouse  in 

her  pleasant  reflections,  for  she  smiled  softly,  as 
she  played,  and  a  little  flush  rose  to  her  cheeks. 

Then  the  maid,  Fifine,  appeared,  saying  that  a 
gentleman  wished  to  see  Mademoiselle.  The  little 
flush  deepened  a  bit.  She  knew  who  the  "  gentle 
man  "  was. 

"Colonel  von  Altdorf  is  always  to  come  in  at 
once,  Fifine !  "  said  she.  "  You  need  never  ask." 

But  the  man  who  entered  the  room  immediately 
bore  no  likeness  to  Colonel  von  Altdorf.  She  had 
known  this  man  many  months  before  in  New  York 
and  in  Newport. 

"  Prince  Karl ! "  gasped  Miss  Mannering.  "  Prince 
— Karl  ? — Oh,  sir,  sir,  you  ought  not  to  come  here ! 


156    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Does  Colonel  von  Altdorf  know  ?  Oh,  you  must  n't 
stay  !  "What  if  Eleanor  should  see  you  ?  "  She  had 
fallen  back  against  the  piano  in  her  amazement,  and 
she  clasped  her  hands  excitedly  before  her  as  if  she 
would  pray  him  to  be  gone. 

"You  must  not  be  seen  here,  Prince,"  she  re 
peated.  "  Ah,  you  should  not  have  come  ! " 

"I  have  come,  Mademoiselle,"  cried  the  Prince, 
"  to  see  my  wife !  God  in  Heaven,  am  I  to  be  put 
off  forever? — Yon  Altdorf!  Enough  of  von  Alt 
dorf  !  Is  he  my  governor,  my  keeper  ?  I  tell  you, 
Mademoiselle,  I  can  bear  it  no  longer.  Has  a  hus 
band  no  rights?  Am  I  to  stand  by  idle  while 
another  man  plays  my  part,  wins  my  wife  from  me 
forever  ? — Let  me  see  her !  Mademoiselle,  you  are 
a  woman,  you  are  not  as  those  men,  MacKenzie, 
von  Altdorf,  Creighton,  cold,  careful,  without 
heart !  Let  me  see  her.  By  heaven  I  demand  it ! 
"Who,  I  ask  you,  is  Prince  of  Novodnia  and  husband 
of  the  Princess  Eleanor?  Is  it  that  gentleman 
whom  she  meets  in  the  garden  daily,  or  is  it  I  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Prince,  Prince !  "  begged  Miss  Mannering. 
"  Pray  be  calm  !  Heaven  knows  how  we  all  regret 
the  deception  we  have  had  to  practice.  It  has  been 
through  no  desire  of  ours  that  you  were  kept  away 
from  Eleanor — will  you  not  be  wise  and  go  quickly 
before  she  may  happen  in  here  ?  She  is  not  yet  fit 
to  see  you.  It  must  be  broken  to  her  gently." 

"  Mademoiselle !  "  he  cried,  "  I  will  be  put  off  no 
longer.  I  cannot  allow  this  deception  to  go  on.  1 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    157 

demand  an  interview  with  my  wife  the  Princess. 
No  man  with Great  God  Almighty !  Elea 
nor  1  Eleanor ! " 

Miss  Mannering  saw  his  face  go  suddenly  white 
and  his  jaw  drop  as  his  voice  left  him  in  a 
choking  gasp,  and  she  turned  about  with  a  little 
shriek. 

The  Princess  Eleanor  came  forward  slowly  from 
the  doorway  where  she  had  been  standing.  She 
looked  from  her  cousin  to  the  man  who  stood  near, 
and  back  again  to  Miss  Mannering,  with  a  puzzled, 
questioning  expression.  She  was  frowning  slightly 
and  her  eyes  were  clouded. 

"  What — what  do  you  mean  by  a — deception  going 
on — your  wife  the  Princess  Eleanor — meeting  an 
other  man  daily  in  the  garden  ?  "  she  said  in  a  slow, 
wondering  tone.  "What  is  all  this  about? — Jes 
sica,  who  is  this ?  Ah !  "  She  caught  herself 

up  sharply  as  she  saw  the  Prince's  face  full  in  the 
light,  and  moved  a  little  away  from  him,  putting 
out  her  hand  to  Miss  Mannering. 

"  Why  this  is — the  man  who — who  frightened 
me  the  other  day  in  the  garden,"  she  said,  still  in 
her  low,  puzzled  tone.  "  What  does  he — want,  Jess  ? 
Does  he  want  to  see  the  Prince  ?  Oh,  Jessica,  Jes 
sica,  what  is  it  all  about  ?  What  is  this  dreadful 
mystery  ?  Why,  Jess,  you  're  trembling !  I  've 
heard  all  you  've  said  to  each  other,  what  does  he 
mean  by  saying  that  he  's  the  Prince  ?  Why,  he  's 
not  the  Prince  at  all!  Why  did  you  call  him 


158    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Prince,  Jess  ?  "Why  did  n't  you  want  me  to  see 
him  ?  I — oh  tell  me  what  it 's  all  about  1 " 

Miss  Jessica  Mannering  flashed  a  desperate  warn 
ing  to  the  Prince  and  took  her  cousin  by  the 
shoulders.  "  It 's  nothing,  nothing,  dear  !  "  she  cried. 
"  Come  away  !  You  must  n't  be  excited  over  trifles. 
This  is  another  Prince  from — somewhere  near  No- 
vodnia.  He  wants  to  see  Prince  Karl  upon — busi 
ness  of  state.  Come  away,  Eleanor,  come  !  " 

But  the  Princess  Eleanor  would  not  be  moved. 
She  freed  herself  from  the  arm  that  Miss  Mannering 
had  thrown  around  her,  and  shook  her  head  decid 
edly.  Her  eyes  did  not  leave  the  man's  face. 

"  Do  n't  try  to  hoodwink  me,  Jess,"  said  she. 
"  There  's  some  mystery  here,  and  I  must  know  of 

it "Where  have  I  seen  this  gentleman  before  ? 

His  face — why  his  face  is  oddly  familiar!"  She 
pressed  a  hand  over  her  eyes  a  moment  as  if  she 
would  clear  away  the  mist  from  her  mind. 

"  "Who  are  you,  sir  ? "  she  asked.  "  I  seem  to 
know  you,  but — I — my  memory  plays  me  false." 

The  Prince  looked  at  Miss  Jessica  Mannering  and 
made  a  little  gesture  of  desperation. 

"  Madame  1 "  said  he,  "  I  am  Carol  Ferdinand, 
Prince  of  Novodnia.  Ah,  Eleanor,  Eleanor  !  do  n't 
you  know  me  ?  " 

The  Princess  Eleanor  caught  her  hand  swiftly  to 
her  breast  and  stared  into  the  man's  face.  Her 
eyes  were  dilated,  very  wide  and  dark,  and  her  lips 
parted.  She  seemed  not  to  breathe  at  all.  After 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    159 

some  little  time  she  turned  her  head,  not  moving 
her  body,  and  her  wide  eyes  burned  into  those  of 
her  cousin.  Miss  Mannering  dropped  her  face  into 
her  hands  and  fell  to  sobbing,  and  the  Princess 
looked  again  toward  the  man. 

"  You  ?  "  she  said  in  a  slow  half  whisper.  "  You, 
Prince  of  Novodnia  and  my  husband  ?  Why — why 

I  must  have  misunderstood — I  must  be — dream 

Ah,  if  this  is  a  jest,  sir,  I  tell  you  it  is  a  poor  one ! 
I  do  n't  follow  your  humour.  Yet  your — your  face  ? 
Oh,  in  Heaven's  name,  can't  you  explain  ?  Jess, 
Jess,  tell  me!  What  does  it  all  mean?"  Her 
voice  had  risen  to  a  cry.  "  This  man  Prince  of 
Novodnia  ?  Why  then,  what  is  my  Prince  ?  This 

man  my  hus Why  Jessica,  I  've  been  with  my 

husband  for  a  fortnight,  every  day  !  Am  I  mad  or 
are  you  ?  Jess,  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

Miss  Mannering  drew  her  cousin  into  her  arms 
and  bent  the  dazed,  trembling  head  till  it  lay  upon 
her  shoulder. 

"  Listen,  dearest ! "  said  she.  "  I  must  tell  you 
the  truth  now,  the  whole  truth,  at  any  cost,  though 
we  had  meant  to  break  it  to  you  gently.  This 

gentleman  is  Prince  Karl  of  Novodnia No, 

no  !  Wait,  Eleanor  !  He  was  detained  in  Novod- 
nia  by  the  troubles  there,  and  could  not  by  any 
chance  get  away  to  come  to  you  here  in  Paris. 
But  you  were  on  the  edge  of — of  nervous  prostra 
tion,  dear — or  worse.  You  imagined  that  we  were 
trying  to  keep  your  husband  from  you Ah, 


160    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

you  imagined  all  sorts  of  things,  till  we  were  quite 
desperate,  Sir  Gavin  and  the  rest  of  us.  So,  some 
one  suggested  that — that  another  gentleman  take 
the  Prince's  place — since  the  Prince  might  not 

come — and  a  Mr.  Mallory,  Denis  Mallory 

Wait,  wait,  Eleanor ! — pretended  to  be  the  Prince 
your  husband,  to  save  your  reason  and  perhaps  your 
life.  Oh,  it  is  he,  Eleanor,  whom  you  have  been 
seeing  every  day !  The  real  Prince  came  unex 
pectedly  that  day  when  you  first  saw  him,  when  he 
frightened  you  in  the  garden." 

The  Princess  Eleanor  moved  slowly  away  from 
her  cousin  and  stood  looking  at  her  with  sombre 
eyes. 

"  It — is  n't — true,"  she  said  very  low,  and  as  if  to 
herself,  but  there  was  no  conviction  in  the  tone. 
"  It — is  n't  true !  Why,  of  course,  it  can't  be  true. 
My  Karl  not  the  Prince,  not  my  husband?  My 
Karl  ?  Jess,  dear,  please  tell  me  that  you  're  joking 
or  I  dreaming  or  that  I  'm  quite,  quite  mad ! 
Carlo  's  not  Carlo  at  all,  but  a  Mr.  Mallory  ?  This 
— this  gentleman  is  Carlo,  my  husband  ?  Oh,  Jes 
sica,  do  n't  let  me  believe  you  !  Take  hold  of  me  a — 
moment,  dear,  things  are — going  round — just  a  bit." 

"  Eleanor  ! "  said  the  Prince.  "  Ah,  Eleanor, 
Eleanor  ! " 

She  covered  her  face  with  shaking  hands  and 
swayed  in  Miss  Mannering's  arms. 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't  believe  it !  "  she  cried  fiercely. 
Her  voice  had  gone  quite  beyond  control  and  was 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    161 

hoarse  and  unnatural.  "I  won't,  I  won't!  My 
Karl  play  a  trick  like  that  ?  "Why,  it  is  n't  in  him  ! 
He  couldn't  do  it!  He  is  the  very  soul  of  all 
honour  !  Do  you  want  me  to  believe  him  a  black 
guard  ?  Kim  f  Why,  Jess,  Jess,  there 's  some  dread 
ful  mistake  somewhere,  I  know  there  is — I  'd 
trust  him  against  all  the  world — sooner  than  my 
own  self,  I  tell  you.  No,  oh  no,  he  'd  never  lie  to 
me." 

"  Dearest !  "  cried  Jessica  Mannering,  "  do  n't  you 
understand  that  it  was  to  save  you  ?  "We  feared 
for  your  very  reason,  Eleanor,  for  your  life!  It 
was  only  something  desperate  that  would  save  you. 
Ah,  dear,  dear,  do  you  think  I  'd  be  telling  you  this, 
making  you  suffer  so  if  it  were  n't  true  ?  Can't 
you  see  that  we  had  to  lie  to  you  for  your  own 
sake?" 

The  Princess  moved  away  from  her  again,  and 
leaned  against  the  wall  near  by,  laying  her  head 
upon  the  rough  hangings.  She  shivered  as  if  she 
were  cold,  and  pulled  the  collar  of  her  waist  closer 
about  her  throat. 

"Lie  to  me?"  she  said.  "Oh  yes,  yes,  it 
might  be  necessary  to  lie  to  me,  sometimes,  for  my 

own  good Oh  yes,  I  can  see  that,  but  give  me  a 

man  that  you  call  my  husband,  let  me  see  him 
every  day,  grow  to  know  him,  care  for  him,  love 
him  as  no  human  being  ever  was  loved  before  ? 
Centre  my  whole  life,  my  world,  my  heaven  to 
come  in  the  depths  of  his  eyes,  in  the  smile  of  his 


162    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

lips  ?  Oh,  it 's  infamous !  It 's  unbelievable !  Is  a 
woman's  sanity,  nay,  her  life  itself,  more  than  her 
soul  ?  I  tell  you  that  man,  whom  you  say  is  not  my 
husband,  has  the  very  soul  of  me  between  his  hands ! 
I  've  grown  to  love  him  till  I  'm  part  of  him,  and  he 
of  me,  my  soul  can  never  be  my  own  again  any 
more  than  my  heart  can.  It 's  infamous,  I  say ! 
That 's  what  you  've  done  for  me,  all  of  you ! 
That 's  what  you  've  robbed  me  of,  my  immortal 
soul  1  And  for  my  health's  sake !  Oh-h  ! — And — 
and  now  you  bring  this  man  here  and  say  that  he 's 
my  husband !  You  expect  me  to  say  to  him  '  Oh 
yes,  yes  it 's  been  nice  with  your  substitute  but  now 
that  you  've  come  I  '11  go  away  with  you  when  you 
will.'  '  I '  ?  There  is  n't  any  I !  I  'm  part  of  that 
man  whom  I  've  grown  to  love  1  And  now  you  ask 
me  to  believe  him  a  blackguard ! "  She  turned  her 
face  against  the  wall  and  hid  it  with  her  hands. 
"A  blackguard!"  she  moaned.  "My  King  a 
blackguard !  '  I  could  not  love  thee  dear  so  much, 
loved  I  not  honour  more ' — *  loved  I  not  honour 
more ! '  Carlo,  Carlo  !  " 

She  stood  so,  face  to  the  wall,  for  a  long  time, 
silent,  and  save  for  an  occasional  fit  of  trembling, 
motionless,  while  the  other  two  looked  into  each 
other's  eyes  with  a  dumb  despair. 

When  at  last  she  turned  to  them  again  she  was 
quite  calm,  though,  now  and  then,  as  she  spoke,  her 
lips  quivered,  and  she  was  forced  to  pause  an  instant 
to  steady  her  voice. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    163 

"It  would  seem,  sir,"  said  she,  not  lifting  her 
eyes  to  his  face,  "that  you  are  my  husband — if 
indeed  we  have  come  at  last  to  the  truth  in  this 
tragedy  of  errors.  Had  I  heart  or  brain  left  with 
feeling  I  think  I  should  be  sorry  for  you,  for  it 
appears  that  I  have  never  brought  you  anything  but 
grief  and  anxiety.  I — I  cannot  speak  now  of  our 
relations.  You — must  give  me  time  to  think.  My 
world,  sir,  has  been  cut  from  under  my  feet.  The 
one  I  loved  and  trusted  and — worshipped  most  of 
all  living  beings  has  proved  a  blackguard  and  it  is 
not  strange  that  I  am  left  without  bearings  or 
standards.  I  have  no  love  left  to  give  you,  Prince. 
I  have  no  love  left  in  me,  nor  trust  nor  faith.  I 
care  not  at  all  what  becomes  of  me,  for  all  that 
made  my  life  is  wrecked  and  dead  utterly.  May  I 
beg  you  to  leave  me  for  to-day  ?  I  will  see  you,  if 
you  wish,  later,  to — to  speak  of  the — future.  Oh, 

leave  us  quickly,  sir,  I  can't  bear — I "  Her 

voice  broke  into  great  shaking  sobs  and  she  sank 
down  into  one  of  the  big  chairs  that  stood  near,  and 
hid  her  face  again. 

The  Prince  of  Novodnia  glanced  at  Miss  Jessica 
Mannering,  and  taking  up  his  hat  tiptoed  softly 
out  of  the  room. 

Miss  Mannering  dropped  upon  her  knees  beside 
the  chair  and  threw  her  two  arms  about  the 
huddled  figure,  laying  her  face  against  the  bronzed 
head  and  sobbing,  but  the  Princess  Eleanor  put 
her  away  and  rose  to  her  feet,  choking  down 


164    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

the  great  sobs  that  shook  her,  with  a  fierce 
effort. 

"  Do  n't  touch  me,  please,"  she  said  in  a  half  whis 
per.  "  I — I  do  n't  seem,  to  want  any  one  to — to  touch 
me  or  be  near  me.  I  want  to  be  alone — quite  alone. 
You've  quite  wrecked  my  life — among  you,  and 
I  presume  I  shall  never — forgive  you  for  it.  No, 
I  do  n't  think  I  hate  you,  quite.  But  I  do  n't  love 
you  any  more."  She  moved  uncertainly  toward 
the  door  that  led  to  the  great  staircase.  In  the 
doorway  she  paused  an  instant,  and  looked  back. 

"Please  never  mention  that — that  impostor  to 
me — again,"  said  the  Princess  Eleanor,  and  went 
slowly  up  the  stairs  to  her  chamber. 

Miss  Jessica  Mannering  on  her  knees  by  the  big 
chair  dropped  her  face  upon  her  arms  and  wept  till 
the  tears  would  no  longer  flow. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"  T| ">  H  ?  "    said  Denis  wearily,  "  what 's  ahead  ? 

r]    God  knows,  not  I.     Yon  Altdorf  has  been 

1  flaying  siege  to  the  Prince  again Gad,  if 

I  were  the  Prince,  I  'd  kill  von  Altdorf — and  he 
has  promised  to  go  back  to  Novodnia  as  soon  as  he 
has  had  another  talk  with — with  Her,  so  that  he  '11 
know  where  he  stands  and  what  the  outcome  is  to 
be." 

We  were  sitting  together  in  the  studio — it  was 
two  days  after  the  Princess  had  been  told  the  truth 
— Denis  at  the  table  with  his  elbows  upon  it  and 
his  head  in  his  hands ;  and  1  in  the  long  steamer 
chair,  smoking  a  pipe,  and  trying  to  beguile  Denis 
with  wonder  inspiring  rings  of  smoke. 

"  But  what 's  the  outcome  to  be  ?  "  I  demanded. 
Denis  shook  his  head. 

"Again,  God  knows,"  said  he,  "and  He  won't 
tell,  but  I  think  she  will  in  time  go  to  the  Prince — 
indeed  I'm  certain  of  it.  He's  her  husband  and 
she  has — an  exalted  sense  of — of  honour  and  duty. 
Ah,  yes,  she  '11  go  to  him — if  not  for  love,  still  for 
duty.  They  '11  find  some  way  to  make  her  elevation 
possible,  to  make  it  popular  among  the  people,  and 
she'll  fill  her  high  position  as  a  princess  should. 
Aye,  a  throne  will  become  her.  She  was  born  for 


166    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

state.  Have  you — happened  to  hear  anything  about 
her  since  day  before  yesterday,  Ted  ?  Have  you 
been  at  the  house  ?  " 

"  "Why,  no,"  said  I,  "  I  meant  to  have  gone  there 
yesterday,  but  something  else  came  up — I'll  run 
over  now.  Miss  Mannering  will  be  there  of  course. 
Will  you  come  ?  " 

He  looked  up  eagerly  for  an  instant.  I  knew 
how  he  was  longing  to  go,  to  see  Miss  Mannering 
himself,  ask  her  all  the  things  that  he  might  not  ask 
of  any  one  else,  hear  the  littlest  details  of  that 
lamentable  scene  with  the  Prince.  But  he  shook 
his  head. 

"No,  Ted,  no,"  said  he,  "I  mustn't  go.  It 
wouldn't  do  at  all.  She  might  see  me  there,  hap 
pen  into  the  room  while  we  were  calling.  Ah,  no, 
you  must  go  alone,  lad.  But — ask  a  great  deal 
about  her,  Teddy  !  Find  out  just  how  she  is,  if  it 
has  weakened  her  at  all,  if  she 's  ill,  how  she  seems 
and  looks.  Ah,  remember,  Ted,  that  I  want  to 
know  everything!  Nothing's  too  little  or  too 
trivial.  Bah!  I'm  growing  womanish!  Don't 
mind  me,  lad,  just  make  your  call  and — and  ask  all 
the  questions  you  can.  I  shall  be  waiting  here  for 
you." 

"  I  '11  do  my  best,  old  chap,"  said  I.  "  Miss  Man 
nering  sha'  n't  get  off  easily,  I  promise  you.  Yes, 
wait  here,  I  shall  not  be  long." 

I  found  Miss  Jessica  Mannering  in  the  music- 
room.  She  was  sitting  in  one  of  the  big  stuffed 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    167 

chairs  near  a  window,  with  a  book,  and  looked  up 
with  a  trace  of  eagerness  as  I  came  in.  I  was  n't 
at  all  cut  up  when  the  trace  of  eagerness  died  away 
at  sight  of  me,  for  I  'd  no  hopes  of  rivaling  von 
Altdorf. 

"  I  've  come  to  enquire  about  the  Princess,"  said 
I.  "Den — we're  all  tremendously  worried,  of 
course,  and,  if  you  do  n't  mind  my  saying  it,  you 
look  worried,  too." 

Indeed,  I  had  never  seen  Miss  Mannering  in  quite 
this  guise.  Her  eyes  were  indisputably  red  from 
weeping.  She  was  very  pale  and  drawn  and  seemed 
on  the  verge  of  illness. 

She  laid  her  head  back  restlessly  upon  the  cush 
ions  of  the  big  chair,  and  sighed. 

"  Worried  ?  "  said  she,  "  worried  ?  I  'm  half  mad, 
and  quite  ill  from  anxiety  and  lack  of  sleep.  Elea 
nor  will  hardly  speak  to  me  or  to  Sir  Gavin,  or  to 
Colonel  von  Altdorf  who  was  here  yesterday.  I 
do  n't  know  what  to  do  or  say,  Mr.  Creighton — if 
only  she  'd  a  mother !  You  see  I  am  the  only  one 
of  the  family  here  in  Paris,  for  my  uncle,  Eleanor's 
father,  was  called  back  to  America,  long  ago.  I  'm 
quite  at  my  wits'  end." 

"  She 's  not  ill  again  ?  "  I  asked,  "  er — mentally 
or  otherwise  ?  It  has  n't  forced  her  into  a  relapse  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  think  not,"  said  the  girl.  "  she  seems 
strong  enough.  Sir  Gavin  says  that  it 's  her  anger 
and  resentment  that  are  keeping  her  up,  for  she 's 
terribly  angry  in  her  proud,  cold  way.  Indeed,  one 


168    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

can't  blame  her  for  it,  nor  for  turning  against  us  all 
as  she  has  done.  She  feels  that  an  almost  unspeak 
able  humiliation  has  been  put  upon  her,  in  present 
ing  Mr.  Mallory  as  her  husband,  and  allowing  her 
to  fall  so  madly  in  love  with  him.  Ah,  she  did  love 
him,  Mr.  Creighton !  I  suppose  none  of  us  will  ever 
know  how  she  loved  him.  Now,  she  won't  allow 
his  name  to  be  mentioned  before  her — as  if  we  'd 
any  chance!  We  seldom  see  her.  She  keeps  to 
her  own  rooms,  has  her  meals  sent  there,  indeed, 
save  that  yesterday  she  came  down  for  dinner. 
Poor  Eleanor  !  She 's  had  so  much  more  than  her 
share  of  suffering,  has  n't  she  ?  It  seems  as  if  Fate 
— as  Colonel  von  Altdorf  would  say — had  chosen 
her  for  misfortune.  I  suppose  there  is  no  more 
terrible  thing  than  to  have  the  one  person  whom, 
out  of  all  the  world,  you  love  most,  proved  all  at 
once  an  impostor,  and,  as  it  must  seem  to  you,  a 
villain.  She  says  that  her  world  is  cut  from  under 
her  feet,  that  there's  no  love  nor  trust  nor  faith 
left  in  her.  She  says  she  will  never  forgive  us  all, 
and  I  dare  say  it  is  true.  Her  whole  mind  has  been 
turned  into  the  bitterest  resentment." 

"Alas!"  said  I,  "von  Altdorf 's  right.  Fate 
plays — and  makes  sorry  figures  of  us  all.  "What 's 
to  be  done  but  wait  ?  " 

And  Miss  Mannering  dropped  her  hands  listlessly 
into  her  lap  and  answered  as  Denis  had  answered 
half  an  hour  before. 

"  God  knows  ! " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    169 

There  was  a  stir  of  draperies  upon  the  stairs 
and  outside  the  door  that  led  into  the  long  hall,  and 
the  Princess  Eleanor  of  Novodnia  entered. 

"  I  am  looking  for  my  Browning,"  she  said  from 

the  doorway.  "  Have  you  it,  Jessi "  She  saw 

me  and  paused  a  moment. 

"Ah,  Mr.— Creighton!"  said  she,  "I— I  did  not 
know  you  were  here." 

"  I  trust  I  do  n't  intrude,  madame,"  said  I,  bowing. 

"Why,  not  at  all,"  said  the  Princess.  "Miss 
Mannering  will  tell  you  that  you  are  always  wel 
come,  sir." 

She  took  up  her  book  from  the  table,  and  left  the 
room  with  a  little  inclination  of  her  head. 

I  find,  now  that  I  come  to  write  it,  that  I  can 
give  no  adequate  description  of  the  strange  altera 
tion  which  had  taken  place  in  her,  of  the  cold,  proud 
aloofness,  the  regal  majesty  that  seemed  to  hold  her 
at  some  great  inexplicable  distance.  She  seemed  to 
have  gained  in  stature,  to  tower  above  us,  lofty  and 
alien  in  her  bitterness  and  proud  grief.  As  Miss 
Mannering  had  said,  she  had  suffered  little  physical 
ill.  She  appeared  strong  and  well,  save  that  the 
circles  had  come  about  her  eyes  once  more  and  that 
her  lovely  mouth  drooped  at  the  corners.  Her 
voice  was  low  and  quite  civil  but  infinitely  cold. 

"  You  see,  you  see  1 "  cried  Miss  Mannering,  when 
the  Princess  had  left.  "  Do  you  wonder  that  no 
one  can  approach  her'?  How — how  does  she  seem 
to  you,  Mr.  Creighton  ?  " 


170    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

But  I  shook  my  head. 

"Don't  ask  me,"  I  said.  "A  queen  nursing  a 
pain  too  great  for  words  but  holding  a  calm  face  to 
the  world,  if  you  like.  I  don't  know.  Great 
heaven,  her  eyes  are  the  saddest  tragedy  I  ever 
saw  !  How  she  's  suffering !  And  how  she  must 
have  loved  him  ! " 

I  rose,  still  shaking  my  head. 

"  I  must  be  going  back  to  Denis,"  I  said.  "  He 's 
waiting  for  news  of  her.  Yes,  von  Altdorf  's  right 
— Fate  plays." 

Once  back  in  the  studio,  I  told  Denis  all  that  I 
had  heard  and  seen,  proud  that  I  had  so  much  to 
give  him.  He  made  no  comment  or  remark  save  an 
occasional  "  Yes,  yes,  man,  get  on !  get  on  !  "  when 
I  paused  for  breath.  And  when  I  told  him  how 
the  Princess  had  suddenly  come  into  the  room 
where  Miss  Mannering  and  I  sat  talking,  he  gave 
a  deep  voiced  "Ah-h-h!"  and  dragged  his  chair 
nearer. 

"  But,  lad,  lad ! "  he  cried,  when  I  had  made  an 
end,  "  dear  lad,  you  tell  so  little !  Nothing  that  I 
didn't  know  before.  All  these  things  one  could 
take  for  granted.  Tell  me  the  little  things,  Teddy, 
how  she  bore  her  eyes,  and  that  queen's  head  of 
hers.  Ah,  high  in  the  air,  I  '11  warrant !  And  was 
she  paler  than  her  wont,  lad  ?  And  was  one  little 
curling  lock  of  her  hair  loose  over  the  ear — the  left 
ear,  as  it  always  is  ?  Had  she  a  flower  at  her 
breast  ?  Ah,  you  've  no  eyes,  Ted  !  I  'd  have 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    171 

known  every  tiniest  thing  about  her  in  an  in 
stant  ! " 

He  rose  and  went  over  to  the  window  that  gives 
upon  the  garden.  It  was  open  wide  for  the  sweet 
spring  air  to  enter,  and  he  stood  by  it  staring  out 
into  his  lost  Paradise  for  a  long  time. 

"  I  '11  walk  in  the  garden  for  a  while,"  said  he  at 
last.  "  No  one  will  be  there  to  see  me  or  interrupt. 
I  want  to  sniff  the  perfume  once  more,  and — sit  on 
the  stone  bench."  He  threw  a  foot  over  the  win 
dow  ledge  and  vaulted  down  to  the  turf  below. 

I  took  up  a  pipe  and  a  book  to  pass  the  time,  but 
Denis  walked  up  the  old  gravel  path  between  the 
straight  prim  rows  of  chestnut-trees ;  and  the  heavy 
fragrance  of  the  blossoms  above  hung  over  him 
like  the  scent  of  burial  flowers. 

He  walked,  head  down,  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
ground  before  him,  hands  clasped  behind  his  back, 
so  that  he  came  slowly  into  the  little  circle  of 
shrubbery  that  surrounds  the  fountain,  and  where 
stands  the  cracked  old  stone  bench,  without  glancing 
ahead. 

Then  he  raised  his  eyes  and  fell  a  step  backward. 

"  I — beg  your — pardon  !  "  said  he,  very  low,  and 
in  a  queer,  breathless  voice.  "  I  did  n't — know  there 
was  any  one — here.  I — thought  I  should  be  alone." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  Princess  Eleanor  from  the  old 
stone  bench.  "  Else  I  should  not  have  come." 

"  I  '11  go  away  at  once,"  said  Mallory,  not  looking 
at  her.  "  I — won't  intrude  upon  you." 


172    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  Just  a  moment,  please ! "  begged  the  Princess 
Eleanor.  She  rose  to  her  feet  to  confront  him, 
frowning  a  little,  eyes  half  closed,  her  lips  with  the 
slightest  additional  curl  as  if  he  were  something 
offensive,  unpleasant  to  see. 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir,"  she  began  coldly,  "  what 
has  been  told  you  relative  to — to  what  occurred  on 
the  day  before  yesterday,  or  to  my  sentiments  to 
ward  you  at  present — and  for  all  time  in  the 
future  ?  " 

She  spoke  as  if  in  question,  and  paused  a  moment. 

"  I  think  I  have — heard  it  all,"  said  Denis  quietly, 
"  or  at  least  quite  enough  to  understand,  quite.  Of 
course  I  'm  not  surprised,"  he  went  on,  "  at  your 
feeling  about  it  all — I — expected  to  be— despised, 
and — all  that,  for  you  can't  know,  probably  never 
will  know,  how  desperately  necessary  it  was  to  take 
some  immediate  action,  and  how  we  were  forced  to 
lie  to  you,  to  impose  upon  you  for  your  own  sake. 
Ah,  I  'm  not  crying  for  your  mercy !  I  'm  not  even 
trying  to  apologise  for  what  we  did.  However  we 
hated  the  task,  we  knew  it  was  the  only  thing,  and 
we  'd  do  it  again,  I  think,  if  the  same  problem  were 
offered  us." 

"  I  can  understand,  sir,"  said  the  Princess,  "  how 
Sir  Gavin  MacKenzie  and  these  other  gentlemen — 
even  my  Cousin  Jessica,  might  use  a  deception  to 
save  my — health.  There  is  nothing  terrible  in  that. 
But  that  you  should  carry  the  thing  on,  day  after 
day,  seeing,  as  you  must  have  seen,  what  it  was 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    173 

coming  to — seeing  that  I  must  grow  to  care  for 
you,  letting  me  care  more  and  more,  aye,  making 
me  care !  till  you  had  me,  heart  and  soul,  in  your 
hands.  Ah,  there's  where  the  awfulness  of  the 
thing  lies !  To  think  that  a  man  could  be  so  base, 
so  contemptible,  so  infamous  ! 

"  To  think  that  I  could  have  loved  such  a — such 
a  thing  !  Ah-h,  I  could  tear  the  heart  from  me  and 
stamp  upon  it,  when  I  think  of  these  past  weeks ! 
It 's  unclean,  vile ! — I  had  not  supposed  that  any 
human  being,  anything  made  in  God's  image  could 
crawl  so  low,  could  do  such  a  hideous  thing  as  to 
mask  himself  in  smooth,  fine  words,  to  prate  of  his 
honour,  honour  by  heaven!  to  palm  himself  off 
upon  an  unsuspicious  woman  as  her  husband,  win 
the  greatest,  purest  love  that  was  ever  in  the  world, 
and  then  go  back  when  his  day's  work  was  done, 
back  to  his — den  and  laugh,  laugh  and  sneer  at 
what  he  'd  done !  Ah,  fine  sport  it  must  have  been 
for  you !  Koyal  times  you  must  have  had,  those 
evenings,  gloating  over  what  you  'd  won  ! 

"  I  only  wonder  that  God  whom  we  're  taught  is 
all  wise,  suffers  such  things  as  you  to  wander  about 
the  earth  poisoning  whomever  you  touch !  Do  you 
think  I  shall  ever  be  clean  from  you?  Do  you 
think  I  shall  ever  pass  a  day  without  shuddering  to 
think  that  I  've  sat  here  with  you,  poured  out  my 
heart  and  soul  to  you  as  I  've  never  done  to  another 
being,  kissed  you  ?  Oh-h — you  've  made  the  re 
mainder  of  my  life  hideous — I  only  wish  I  might 


174    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

die  here  and  now  before  I  live  to  hate  myself  the 
more ! " 

Mallory  raised  a  white  and  quivering  face.  His 
voice  shook  when  he  spoke. 

"  And  you — you  thought — you  think  that  I  was 
— playing  the  lover  as  well  as  the  husband  ?  You 
thought  I  went  back  to  my  rooms  daily  to  laugh 
and  sneer  ? — Eleanor,  you  sear  my  very  soul !  You 
— ah! — As  God  lives  and  loves  His  world,  I've 
loved  you  and  love  you  now  and  must  love  you  till 
I  die  with  all  the  heart  and  soul  and  body  that  is 
mine.  If  ever  I  have  tried  to  stammer  my  love  in 
poor  words  I  could  have  beaten  my  tongue  for  its 
pitiful  halting,  stopped  my  breath  for  its  wretched 
effort.  Words  have  gone  so  limping  behind  my 
love  that  they  have  shamed  it,  belittled  it.  Ah, 
despise  me  as  you  will — as  you  must,  Princess,  but 
you  cannot  kill  my  love  for  you.  You  've  called 
me  the  lowest  of  crawling  things.  You've  said 

that  my  presence  soiled  you,  left  you  unclean 

Oh,  Madame,  I  am  not  your  husband  and  I  've  no 
right  to  any  kind  word,  any  good  will  from  you, 
but  no  love  so  great  as  mine  has  ever  soiled  any 
woman,  and  no  such  worship  has  ever  degraded  her." 

"Would  you  carry  your  infamy  further,  sir?" 
she  cried.  "  Have  you  not  done  ?  Would  you  in 
sult  me  again  with  your  pretense  of  love  ?  '  Love ' ! 
As  if  you  knew  what  that  word  means  !  " 

"  I  tell  you  the  truth,  Madame,"  said  Denis 
Mallory  patiently.  "  I  would  not  have  you,  for 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    175 

your  own  sake,  believe  me  worse  than  I  am.  I  ask 
nothing  of  you,  not  forgiveness,  not  pity.  I've 
wronged  you  past  all  that — though  I  did  it,  as  did 
we  all,  for  what  I  believed  to  be  a  good  end.  But 
lie  to  you  in  the  matter  of  love  I  did  not,  nor  could 
have  done  so  had  I  wished.  Can  you  not  see  that 
I  must  be  telling  you  the  truth  ?  that  I  should  gain 
nothing  by  lying  to  you  now  ?  " 

The  Princess  shook  her  head  and  turned  im 
patiently  away  from  him. 

"  I  can  see  nothing,"  said  she,  "  believe  nothing, 
trust  nothing,  put  faith  in  no  human  being  again. 
You  see  what  you  have  done  for  me  with  your 
'love.'" 

"  Yes,"  said  he  very  low.  "  Yes,  I  see.  My  only 
hope  is  that  time  and  reflection  may,  in  part  at 
least,  undo  it.  Time  is  the  greatest  of  healers, 
Madame,  the  kindest  and  most  merciful  of  friends." 

"  And  Time,  sir,"  said  the  Princess  coldly,  "  the 
greatest  of  healers,  will,  no  doubt,  quickly  efface  all 
traces  of  this  wonderful  love  you  so  stubbornly 
profess." 

But  Denis  looked  at  her  wide-eyed. 

"  Time  efface  my  love,  Madame  ?  "  he  asked  in  a 
wondering  tone.  "  Time  efface  my  love  ?  "Why — 
why — how  little  you  know  of  love  after  all,  Prin 
cess!  Shall  love  die  for  lack  of  feeding,  like  a 
neglected  child  ?  Shall  love  live  only  when  it 's 
loved  ?  Time  efface  it  ?  Eternity  won't  efface  it, 
Madame." 


176    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  Nor  brave  words  prove  an  honest  man,  sir ! " 
said  she,  "as  I 've  reason  enough  to  know." 

"Why  did  you  come  out  in  the  garden  to-day, 
Madame?"  he  demanded  suddenly,  looking  into 
her  eyes.  "  "Why  did  you  come  to  sit  upon  the  old 
stone  bench  ?  " 

The  Princess  flushed  from  neck  to  burnished 
hair. 

"Why — why  I — came  because  the  day  was  fine, 
sir,"  she  murmured.  "  Because  the  house  tired  me. 
I  came — what  is  it  to  you,  sir,  why  I  sit  in  my  gar 
den  ?  How  dare  you  demand  my  reasons  for  doing 
as  I  please  ?  Tour  insolence  is  in  keeping  with 
your  other — qualities ! " 

"  As  you  like,  Madame,"  said  he  bowing.  "  And 
now,  before  I  go,  will  you  let  me  make  an  appeal 
to  you  ? — No,  but  wait !  The  appeal  is  not  for 
myself.  I  ask  for  nothing,  nothing.  I  beg  only 
that  you  permit  that  greatest  of  healers,  Time,  of 
which  we  spoke,  to  teach  you  that  there  are  good 
and  true  men  still  in  the  world  and  that  not  every 
one  is  a — liar  and  blackguard.  Madame,  Prince 
Karl  of  Novodnia  is  an  honest  gentleman  who  loves 
you  well,  nay  too  well,  for  he  has  left  his  realm  in 
direst  peril  to  come  to  you — alas  too  late !  I  beg 
that  when  you  have  a  little  recovered  from  this — 
this  shock,  you  will  listen  to  him.  It  is  evident 
that  at  one  time  you  were  willing  to  give  your  life 
to  him,  even  if  no  great  measure  of  love.  Listen  to 
him,  Princess,  and  take  the  high  place  in  Novodnia 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    177 

that  waits  for  you.  You,  who  are  a  queen  among 
women,  must  be  a  princess  before  the  world. 
There  will  never  have  been  so  regal  or  so  kind  a 
princess  1 " 

The  Princess  Eleanor  looked  at  him,  still  frown 
ing  under  puzzled  brows,  as  if  she  could  not  make 
him  out. 

"  Has  Prince  Karl  sent  you  to  make  this  plea  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  Is  this  part  of  your  task  ?  You  per 
form  it  but  ill,  sir.  To  profess  a  great  and  lasting 
love  for  me  one  moment,  and  urge  me  toward 
another  man  the  next,  is  but  poor  logic,  as  I  under 
stand  it  ?  Are  you  being  paid  for  this  new  trick  as 
no  doubt  you  were  for  the  old  ?  " 

Denis  flushed  crimson. 

"  Prince  Karl,  Madame,"  said  he,  "  has  at  no  time 
asked  me  or  sent  me  to  speak  for  him,  and  you  pay 
love  a  sorry  compliment  to  think  that  it  may  never 
be  unselfish.  I  should  love  you  but  ill  should  I  not 
wish  for  you  all  the  happiness — at  whatever  cost  to 
me — that  fortune  can  offer.  Even  were  you  not 
another  man's  wife  I  know  that  you  could  never 
feel  again  for  me  anything  but  loathing  and  des 
pite.  I  am  not  to  be  considered  at  all.  But  the 
Prince,  Madame,  is  a  gentleman  and  he  loves  you. 
It  would  give  me  the  nearest  approach  to  content 
that  the  world  has  now  to  offer  if  I  could  know 
you  happy  with  him  and  reigning  over  Novodnia." 

The  Princess  sat  staring  at  the  ground  and  her 
breathing  came  a  bit  fast. 


178    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  That  were  love  indeed,  sir,"  she  said  in  a  half 
whisper. 

"  And  as  for  payment,"  he  went  on,  "  I  have  a 
perverse  fancy  that  you  should  know  the  worst  of 
the  truth.  Sir  Gavin  and  the  other  gentlemen  con 
cerned,  chose  me  to  play  the  part  of  the  Prince  be 
cause  no  one  of  them  could  bring  himself  to  do  it — 
it  was  too  base.  They  found  me  in  a  cafe  one  even 
ing,  drunk,  as  I  often  was,  and  told  me  their  plans. 
They  knew  me  for  a  good-for-nothing  loafer,  an  ex- 
soldier  of  fortune  who  'd  nothing  to  show  for  his 
soldiering  but  an  ill  name,  an  empty  pocket  and  a 
constant  thirst ;  who  made  a  wretched  living  by 
writing  for  some  London  papers.  They  knew  that 
few  things  were  too  low  for  me  to  undertake,  but 
that  I  would  n't  be  quite  low  enough  to  play  them 
false,  and  they — they  offered  money — forty  pounds 
a  month  to  do  this  work.  I  was  drunk,  as  I  've 
said,  and  I  agreed — wait,  wait  a  moment!  — 
After  I  'd  been  with  you  that  first  afternoon  I  re 
fused  the  money  and  there 's  been  no  question  of 
payment  since. — Still  there  was,  once,  and  for 
that  I  shall  never  forgive  myself.  That  was  the 
basest  of  all." 

The  Princess  turned  wearily  away  from  him. 

"It  is  all  of  an  equal  baseness,  sir,"  said  she. 
"  You  can  surprise  me  with  no  low  details.  The  life 
you  've  lived,  what  you  have  been  or  are  or  will  be, 
are  of  no  interest  to  me — I  know  only  that  you 
made  me  love  you  with  your  lying  words  of  honour 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    179 

and  tenderness,  with  your  lying  eyes  and  lying 
smile,  and  that  now  I  hate  you,  despise  you,  as  I 
hate  and  despise  and  loathe  myself.  Have  you 
done  ? — for  I  can  bear  no  more  of  this." 

"  But  one  thing  more,  and  I  have  done,"  said  he, 
"  one  very  little  thing."  He  put  a  hand  into  his 
waistcoat  breast  pocket  and  drew  out  a  little  knot 
of  narrow  pink  ribbons. 

"  You  wore  this,"  said  he,  "  upon  the  breast  of 
your  white  gown  that  first  day.  It  came  unfastened 
and  fell  when  you  were  not  looking,  and  I  picked  it 
up  and  kept  it.  I  have  had  it  ever  since.  It  has 
never  left  me  night  nor  day." 

He  held  out  the  little  knot  of  ribbon  toward  her, 
but  the  Princess  shrank  back. 

"  I  could  not  touch  it,  sir,"  said  she. 

His  hand  shook  and  the  knot  of  ribbon  fell  to  the 
ground  at  their  feet.  He  stooped  and  picked  it  up 
quickly,  and  held  it  between  his  hands  at  his  breast. 
The  Princess  saw  his  face  and  looked  away. 

Then  he  stood  aside  and  bowed. 

"  If  I  have  your  permission,  Madame,"  said  he  in 
a  very  low  voice,  "  I  will  go.  I  shall  not  intrude 
upon  you  nor  try  to  see  you  again." 

The  Princess  Eleanor,  up  in  her  chamber,  pulled 
aside  the  white  curtains  and  looked  down  into  the 
garden.  The  old  stone  bench  was  hidden  by  shrub 
bery,  but  the  fountain  gleamed  through  the  new 
leaves  with  a  trickle  and  spurt  of  running  water. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  Princess  Eleanor  in  a  low, 


i8o    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

tired  voice,  "  now  I  have  hurt  you  as  much  as  you 
have  hurt  me.  Now  I  've  made  you  suffer  as  much 
as  you  made  me  suffer,  and  you  '11  hate  me  as  I — as 
I — hate  you,  for  no  man  can  ever  forgive  what  I 
have  said  to  you,  the  insults  I  've  heaped  upon  you. 
They  '11  burn  you  so  long  as  you  live,  Denis. — 
*  Denis '  ?  I  like  your  new  name,  Carlo,  it 's  Irish, 
is  n't  it  ? — as  the  lying  speeches  you  've  made  to  me 
must  burn  always ;  as,  God  pity  me,  the  love  I  bear 
you  must  burn  in  my  shamed  heart  till  I  die ! "  cried 
the  Princess  Eleanor,  and  fell  to  sobbing  most  bit 
terly. 


CHAPTER  XV 

BUT  meanwhile  I  had  grown  tired  of  waiting 
for  Denis  to  finish  his  walk  in  the  garden — 
he  seemed  so  long  over  it — and  at  last  went 
off  grumbling  to  my  rooms  in  the  Boulevard  Mont- 
parnasse  to  dress,  for  I  was  dining  across  the  river 
with  some  friends. 

We  dined  at  Durand's  in  the  Place  de  la  Made 
leine,  and  I  saw  the  others  into  their  cabs  outside 
the  door  at  something  like  ten  o'clock  or  a  bit  after. 
Then  I  turned  down  the  rue  Royale  toward  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  for  I  'd  some  notion  of  drop 
ping  in  at  Maxim's,  but  the  Taverne  Royale  looked 
so  bright  and  gay  and  attractive  as  I  passed,  and 
the  refrain  of  a  waltz  which  the  Spanish  orchestra 
was  playing,  sounded  so  alluring,  that  I  turned  in 
there  instead  and  looked  about  for  a  vacant  table. 
The  big  salle  was  nearly  full,  but  I  found  a  table  at 
last  in  the  forward  corner,  and  made  my  way  over 
to  it  through  the  crowd  of  late  diners  and  smartly 
dressed  loungers  who  were  listening  to  the  music. 

The  table  at  my  left  was  surrounded  by  a  group 
of  young  Frenchmen  of  the  well-to-do  etudiant  type, 
that  is  to  say,  grown  children,  irrepressible  in  spir 
its  and  mischief.  They  seemed  to  have  picked  for 
the  temporary  butt  of  their  silly  and  ill-natured 


i82    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

jokes,  a  man  who  sat  alone  at  the  little  table  on  my 
right,  a  very  German  looking  person  of  forty  or 
thereabouts,  with  red  full  cheeks  and  pursy  eyes 
and  very  fiercely  turned  up  moustaches  a  1'Empereur 
Guillaume. 

A  German  may,  nowadays,  work  among  the 
rapins  of  a  Latin  quarter  studio,  subject  to  little  or 
no  insult,  so  common  has  he  become,  but  these  par 
ticular  young  ruffians  of  the  Taverne  Koyale  seemed 
determined  to  avenge  poor  wreath  hung  Strasbourg, 
there  in  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  and  were  ma 
king  things  interesting  in  a  quiet  but  sufficiently 
audible  manner  for  the  gentleman  with  the  up 
turned  moustaches. 

As  for  me,  I  was  trying  to  determine  where  I 
had  seen  him  before.  His  face  had  an  oddly 
familiar  look.  I  knew  no  end  of  Germans.  I  had 
hobnobbed  with  them  from  Bremen  to  the  forest, 
and  from  Frankfurt  to  Vienna,  but  I  could  place 
this  man  nowhere  in  the  list. 

He  was  drinking  Biere  de  Munich — Spatenbraii 
— in  great  half  litre  mugs  which  he  ground  solemnly 
upon  the  table,  with  that  little  rotary  motion,  be 
fore  raising  to  his  lips.  His  left  eyelid  had  a 
chronic  droop  that  gave  him  a  rather  sinister  look, 
and  he  wore  a  monocle  over  that  eye.  Where  had 
I  seen  that  drooping  eyelid  ? 

I  leaned  over  and  begged  him  for  a  match — there 
was  no  box  upon  my  table — and  he  turned  to  me 
with  a  sort  of  eagerness.  The  Frenchmen  had  an- 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    183 

noyed  him  despite  his  German  stolidity.  I  made 
some  commonplace  remark,  I  remember,  about  the 
music  or  the  weather,  and  he  answered  with  an  ap 
parent  delight  at  hearing  his  mother  tongue.  He 
dropped  the  monocle  from  his  eye  as  he  spoke,  and 
I  had  to  lower  my  gaze  swiftly  and  choke  back  the 
exclamation  that  rose  to  my  lips,  for  I  knew  him 
now.  It  was  the  eye-glass  that  had  deceived  me. 

Then  I  set  in,  unashamedly,  to  pump  the  man, 
on  the  chance  that  among  many  lies  there  might  be 
a  truth  or  a  hint  of  value. 

It  was  rather  good  sport,  for  he  had  no  notion, 
whatever,  that  we  had  met — "  in  a  way  o'  speak- 
in'  "  as  MacKenzie  would  say — before. 

Was  he  in  Paris  merely  as  a  traveller  then  ? 

Yes,  he  was  here  for  a  short  time  only.  He  was 
from  Vienna.  "  And  that,"  said  I  inwardly,  "  is  in 
directly  true."  His  name  was  Swartzkopfen — 
"not  by  any  chance  von  Stein briicke?"  said  I 
again — to  myself.  My  name  was  Jenkins  and  I 
was  from  Manchester  where  I  manufactured  toys. 
Herr  von  Swartzkopfen  was  in  Paris  for  no  long 
stop  then  ? 

No,  oh  no,  he  was  here  on  a  mission.  "  True 
again,"  thought  I — a  mission  which  would  be  con 
summated  within  the  next  two  or  three  days. 

"  The  devil  it  will !  "  said  I  to  myself.  "  I  'd  give 
something  to  know  just  what  the  mission  is,  my 
friend."  After  which,  certain  events  must  deter 
mine  his  movements  for  the  next  fortnight. 


184    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

And  he  had  found  pleasant  quarters  while  in  the 
city  ?  He  was  stopping  at  one  of  the  hotels,  of 
course  ? 

But  here  Herr  Swartzkopfen  von  Steinbriicke 
caressed  the  fierce  moustaches  and  murmured  some 
thing  vague  about  friends  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  and  I  changed  the  topic  to  a  safer,  remoter 
one,  for  it  would  n't  do  at  all  to  alarm  the  man. 
There  might  still  be  something  wormed  out  of  him 
unawares. 

We  talked  for  a  long  time  of  many  things — 
"  shoes  and  ships  and  sealing  wax  and  cabbages  and 
kings  " — and  I  found  Herr  von  Steinbriicke,  ex- 
card  sharper,  sometime  blackmailer,  refugee  from 
Austrian  justice,  and  presently  Pavelovitch  catspaw, 
interesting  in  the  extreme. 

He  told  me  tales,  wondrous  tales !  If  only  I 
could  put  them  upon  paper !  Tales  of  queer  hap 
penings  at  Vienna,  at  Trieste,  at  Salzburg,  at  Weis- 
baden,  tales  of  carelessly-cloaked  great  names — I 
had  now  shunted  him  from  Spatenbraii  to  more  po 
tent  and  fiery  things,  so  that  his  tongue  was  loosened 
and  his  face  grew  redder.  He  told  me  tales  of  his 
own  deeds,  boastfully  and  with  no  seeming  shame — 
he  was  drinking  brandy  now — deeds  unspeakable 
for  utter  blackguardism ;  and  I  smiled  and  shoved 
the  little  decanter  toward  him.  He  told  me  bits  of 
court  gossip  from  Vienna,  of  strange  bargains  made 
and  promises  given,  of  strange  plans  afoot  for  a  re 
painting  of  the  map  of  Europe  when  the  beloved 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    185 

old  Emperor  should  come  to  his  death.  By  my 
faith  the  press  of  the  civilised  world  would  have 
burned  the  next  morning  with  startling  news  could 
those  rambling  gutteral  Viennese  accents  have 
reached  its  ears ! 

And  at  last,  when  the  husky  voice  had  grown 
lower  and  had  come  to  wandering  into  silly  repeti 
tions  and  foolish  pleasantries,  I  steered  the  talk 
again — with  inward  trembling — to  the  present 
time. 

Doubtless  his  mission  in  Paris  was  connected 
with  some  of  these  great  folk,  matters  to  be  trusted 
only  to  one  old  in  craft  and  secret  business  ? 

The  foolish  head  wagged  knowingly  and  that  sin 
ister  left  eyelid  drooped  lower. 

His  mission,  by  Heaven,  was  important  enough, 
if  any  one  should  ask  you !  It  had  to  do  with  a 
prince  !  Herr  Gott,  yes  !  but  mind  you  the  prince 
was  not  to  be  a  prince  long !  Eh,  strange  things 
happened  sometimes  when  two  men  wanted  the 

same  seat !  I  think  I  jumped  at  this No,  he 

was  not  to  be  a  prince  long.  He  would  n't  find  it 
convenient  to  return  to  his  throne.  There  was  a 
chuckling  laugh  here.  Ah,  then,  this  prince  was  in 
Paris  ? 

Aye,  he  was  in  Paris,  the  silly  fool !  And  in 

Paris  he  was  to  remain — Paris,  or — somewhere 

He  wasn't  going  home — and  there  was  another 
chuckling  laugh. 

So  then  Denis  was  wrong !    It  was  the  Prince 


186    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

who  was  to  be  kidnapped  or  killed  after  all!  I 
turned  again  to  the  drunken  Austrian  eagerly. 

But  surely  putting  princes  out  of  the  way  had  its 
elements  of  danger ! 

The  Austrian  straightened  up  in  his  chair  with  a 
jerk,  and  drew  his  brows  together  with  a  great  effort 
of  mental  concentration.  It  was  as  if  he  realised 
that  he  had  made  a  rash  slip  and  must  be 
cautious. 

Putting  princes  out  of  the  way  ?  Who  talked  of 
putting  princes  out  of  the  way  ?  I  was  mad ! 
What  had  he  to  do  with  princes?  And  he  rapped 
loudly  upon  the  table  for  his  addition. 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  made  out  of  him, 
it  seemed,  but  I  went  to  the  door  with  him,  talking 
pleasantly  the  while,  and  stood  upon  the  curb  while 
he  called  a  cab. 

"  There  '11  be  no  harm  in  just  making  a  note  of 
where  you  lodge,  my  friend,"  said  I  to  myself. 

He  stumbled  into  the  fiacre,  told  the  cocher  to 
drive  to  the  devil,  and  off  they  dashed  with  a  part 
ing  wave  of  the  hand  to  me. 

"  But  you  do  n't  give  me  the  slip  so  easily  as  all 
that,"  I  protested,  and  was  after  them,  in  an  in 
stant,  with  another  cab. 

"  Follow  that  fiacre  with  the  grey  horse,"  said  I 
to  my  cocher,  "  and  a  Louis  if  you  do  n't  lose  sight 
of  it,  wherever  it  goes ! " 

We  were  caught  in  a  jam  of  traffic  at  the  foot  of 
the  rue  Royale,  but  I  made  out  the  cab  with  the 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    187 

grey  horse  some  little  way  ahead  of  us,  caught  as 
well. 

Then  presently  we  were  off,  across  the  Place  de 
la  Concorde  and  up  the  Champs  filysees. 

"  What ! "  said  I,  "  up  here  ?  I  should  have 
thought  you  'd  keep  closer  to  the  prey,  man,  some 
where  on  the  other  side  of  the  river." 

"We  went  far  up  the  Champs  Elysees,  through  the 
Place  de  1'Etoile  and  into  the  Avenue  Kleber. 
"Upon  my  word,  von  Steinbriicke,  you're  living 
well!"  thought  I. 

Then  at  last,  the  fiacre  with  the  grey  horse  pulled 
up  before  one  of  the  high  imposing  houses  that  line 
the  avenue,  and — a  thin  little  man  with  a  great 
beard  politely  assisted  his  corpulent  and  bejewelled 
wife  to  alight  and  they  rang  the  bell  at  the  big  iron 
grille. 

I  threw  myself  back  upon  the  cushions.  It  was 
that  jam  in  the  rue  Koyale  that  had  done  for  us, 
and  one  grey  horse  looks  much  like  another  when 
you  've  lost  sight  of  the  first  for  a  moment. 

"  81,  Boulevard  Montparnasse ! "  I  growled  to 
the  cocher  and  called  myself  unpleasant  names  all 
the  long  way  home. 

In  the  Boulevard  Montparnasse  I  changed  my 
mind,  and  told  the  cocher  to  go  up  to  the  rue  Bois- 
sonade,  for  I  'd  left  in  Mallory's  studio  a  little  note 
book  that  I  should  be  wanting  early  in  the  morning. 

"  I  shall  probably  have  to  knock  poor  Denis  up," 
said  I  with  a  laugh,  as  I  rang  and  waited  for  the 


i88    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

concierge's  wire  cordon  to  unlock  the  gate  in  the 
iron  fence.  "  He  '11  have  turned  in  by  now." 

He  had  n't  turned  in,  though.  That  was  evident, 
for  there  was  a  bright  light  in  the  studio.  I 
banged  at  the  door,  and  hearing  no  reply,  opened  it 
— it  was  seldom  locked — and  went  in. 

The  reek  of  absinthe  struck  me  in  the  face  as  soon 
as  the  door  was  open.  There  was,  as  I  have  said,  a 
bright  light.  It  came  from  the  big  overhead  lamp 
with  its  reflectors  that  threw  a  glare  down  upon 
what  was  beneath. 

The  forward  end  of  the  room  seemed  full  of  a 
huddled  mass  of  broken  furniture ;  a  carved  table, 
two  chairs  smashed  to  bits — they  must  have  been 
thrown  there  violently — an  easel,  and  some  of  the 
heavier  articles  that  had  hung  upon  the  wall. 
There  were  two  broken  glasses  and  a  carafe  upon 
the  floor,  and  an  overturned  absinthe  bottle  lay  in 
a  little  pool  of  its  former  contents. 

But  what  drew  from  me  a  cry  of  horror  and 
dread  was  not  the  heap  of  smashed  furniture  nor 
the  broken  glasses,  nor  the  sickening  smell  of  ab 
sinthe,  but  something  else. 

Denis  lay  stretched  along  the  floor,  face  down, 
his  head  toward  the  debris  at  the  end  of  the  room. 
One  arm,  the  right  one,  lay  out  before  him,  a  sabre 
in  its  clenched  hand.  Three  or  four  inches  were 
broken  from  the  sabre's  point,  and  the  heap  of 
chairs  and  other  things  were  chopped  and  hacked 
as  if  with  an  axe. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    189 

His  left  arm  lay  bent  under  his  head,  and  he  was 
quite  still. 

Poor  old  Denis!  The  walls  had  come  together 
again,  and  tried  to  catch  him !  Had  they  done  it  ? 

I  ran  to  him,  and  turned  him  over  on  his  back. 
His  jaw  dropped  as  the  head  fell  backward,  and  I 
think  my  heart  quite  stopped  beating.  There  was 
a  deep  cut  over  one  eye,  from  which  the  blood  had 
run  freely  and  was  caked  upon  his  brow  and  down 
across  one  cheek.  He  must  have  struck  the  table 
edge  or  a  chair  when  he  fell. 

I  tore  his  clenched  fingers  from  the  sabre's  hilt, 
and  loosened  his  collar.  Then  I  found  some  water 
and  dashed  it  into  his  face  again  and  again,  cover 
ing  his  mouth  lest  it  should  drown  him.  There  was 
no  sign  of  life,  and  my  heart  stopped  again,  but  I 
tore  off  my  coat  and  hat  and  set  to  work  furiously. 

"  He  's  not  dead ! "  I  cried.  "  By  heaven  he 
sha?  n't  die ! " 

And  at  last,  after  I  had  worked  over  him  for  quite 
ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  I  suppose, — it  seemed  hours 
— his  eyelids  quivered  and  twitched  and  he  began 
to  gasp  feebly  and  to  move  his  lips.  I  put  forth  all 
my  strength  and  lifted  him  to  the  divan,  and — be 
cause  I  could  find  nothing  else — I  forced  between 
his  teeth  a  little  of  the  absinthe  that  remained  in 
the  overturned  bottle. 

He  moved  his  head  from  side  to  side  and  his  eyes 
unclosed. 

"  They  —  they    did  n't    catch    me  ?  "  he    whis- 


190   THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

pered  feebly.  "  They  did  n't  —  catch  me  —  the 
walls  ?  " 

"  No,  dear  old  chap !  "  said  I,  "  they  did  n't  catch 
you,  thank  God !  nor  shall  while  I  'm  alive  to  pre 
vent  it  I  We  won't  give  them  another  chance ! " 

"  Why  it 's — it 's  Teddy  !  "  he  murmured  with  a 
weak  surprise,  "  dear  lad,  how  came  you  here  ? — Ah, 
I  've  had  a  time,  Teddy !  the  very  devil  of  a  time  1 
They — they  nearly  had  me,  Teddy,  lad." 

"  They  sha'  n't  have  another  chance,  Denis,"  said 
I  again,  and  slipped  an  arm  under  him  to  raise  his 
head.  "  Hello,  what  the  deuce  is  this  ?  " 

The  left  hand  that  had  lain  bent  under  his  face 
upon  the  floor,  still  held  clutched  in  its  fingers  a 
little  knot  of  narrow  pink  ribbons,  such  as  women 

love  to  wear  about  them  here  and  there Where 

it 's  monstrous  becoming,  I  protest. 

"Why,  it's  nothing,  dear  lad,"  he  whispered, 
"just  nothing  at  all — a  rag,  a  foolish  thing  I — I 
came  by  accidentally.  It  means  nothing — throw  it 
away  for  me,  Teddy.  Why  should  I  be  holding  to 
it  ?  Nay,  nay ! "  as  I  made  to  take  it  from  his 
fingers,  "  let  it  be,  lad,  I  '11 — I  '11  throw  it  away  my 
self.  You  need  n't  bother.  A  bit  o'  pink  ribbon ! 
God  in  Heaven,  a  bit  o'  pink  ribbon !  What 's  a  bit 
o*  pink  ribbon  to  a  man,  Ted  ?  Hold  me  up  to  you, 
lad,  I  'm — most  outrageous  tired — and — sleepy." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

WE  sat,  as  was  still  our  custom,  in  the 
studio,  the  five  of  us,  MacKenzie  and  the 
Prince — your  pardon,  princes  surely  have 
precedence  over  birthday  knights — the  Prince  and 
MacKenzie,  then,  von  Altdorf,  Denis  and  I. 

The  Prince  wore  an  eager  and  happy  air,  albeit  a 
trifle  nervous,  for  he  was  at  last  to  have  his  inter 
view  with  the  Princess  Eleanor  that  evening. 
Colonel  von  Altdorf's  habitual  anxiety  seemed  to 
have  left  him  in  view  of  his  master's  prospective 
departure  for  Novodnia.  Denis,  with  a  somewhat 
pallid  cheek  and  a  patch  of  plaster  over  one  temple, 
as  witnesses  of  last  night's  work,  seemed  much  as 
ever,  though  silent  and  smiling  little. 

I  was  telling  them  of  my  meeting  with  Herr  von 
Steinbriicke,  and  of  von  Steinbrucke's  boasts  that 
his  mission  in  Paris  was  in  two  or  three  days  to  be 
fulfilled. 

"  But  in  less  than  two  or  three  days,"  said  von 
Altdorf,  "the  Prince  will  be  far  from  Paris  and 
well  on  his  way  to  Novodnia,  thank  God  !  Stein 
briicke  is  too  late  for  once  in  his  life,"  and  he  lay 
back  in  his  chair  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

Then,  before  any  one  could  answer  him,  there 


192    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

came  from  outside  swift  footsteps,  as  of  one  run 
ning,  and  a  noise  at  the  door  as  if  some  one  had 
fallen  against  it.  I,  who  sat  nearest,  sprang  to  the 
door  and  threw  it  open  and  then  fell  back  with  a 
cry  of  alarm. 

The  woman  who  clung  to  the  doorway  white  and 
shaking,  gasping  for  breath,  was  Miss  Jessica  Man- 
nering.  She  wore  no  hat,  and  the  hair  was  blown 
loose  about  her  face.  Her  eyes  were  very  wide  and 
terror-stricken  and  her  breath  came  in  great  dry 
sobs  as  if  she  had  been  running  a  long  distance. 

She  pushed  by  me  into  the  room. 

"  They  've  got  the — Princess ! "  she  cried  weakly. 
"  They  've  got  the — Princess !  Oh,  do  n't  you — hear 
me  ?  They  've  got  the — Princess  !  "  She  dropped 
down  suddenly  upon  the  floor  by  the  great  divan, 
and  her  head  fell  forward  among  the  cushions. 

The  Prince,  von  Altdorf  and  MacKenzie  sat  in 
their  chairs  like  dead  men,  staring.  And  I  stood 
by  the  open  door,  saying  over  and  over  with  a 
tongue  that  took  no  heed  of  itself,  "  They  've  got 
the  Princess  !  They  've  got  the  Princess  ! " 

But  Denis  sprang  quickly  to  the  girl's  side  and 
raised  her  head  in  his  arms.  His  face  was  keen  and 
eager  and  alert.  His  eyes  seemed  almost  glad, 
flashed  with  their  old  quick  fire  as  he  bent  over 
Miss  Mannering. 

The  girl's  head  moved  weakly  back  and  forth 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  her  eyelids  fluttered.  She 
had  not  fainted,  but  she  was  perilously  near  it. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    193 

Mallory's  face  rose  with  a  jerk. 

"  The  flask,  lad  !  "  said  he.     "  Look  sharp !  " 

I  forced  my  stubborn  legs  from  their  trance  at 
last,  and  brought  him  a  flask  from  the  mantel-shelf. 
He  forced  some  of  the  liquor  between  the  girl's 
teeth,  and  her  eyes  opened  slowly,  and  a  bit  of 
colour  came  to  her  cheeks. 

"  That 's  better ! "  said  Denis,  smiling  down 
cheerfully,  "  that 's  better !  Just  a  bit  more,  now." 

"  Oh,  they  've  got — the  Princess ! "  she  whispered, 
and  turned  her  face  with  a  little  moan  so  that  it  was 
hidden  against  his  breast. 

"  Aye ! "  said  Denis,  soft  as  a  woman.  "  Aye,  we 
know,  we  know.  Never  you  fear !  "We  '11  get  her 

back — just  a  drop  more  of  the  brandy,  now 

Aye,  they  've  got  the  Princess.  "When  you  're 
strong  enough,  tell  us  all  you  know — take  your  time 
— just  a  drop  more  before  you  begin.  Now  then ! " 

The  girl  raised  herself,  holding  to  his  arm,  till 
she  was  half  upon  her  knees,  half  resting  against 
him.  His  arm  held  her  waist,  and  her  head  lay 
against  his  shoulder.  She  was  still  very  weak  and 
trembling  and  breathless. 

"  They — they  took  her — away  in — in  a  cab,"  she 
whispered.  "  They  told  her — a  lying  tale  about — 
about  the  Prince.  I  was  away — shopping.  I 
reached  home  only  a  few  moments  ago,  and — and 
the  servants  told  me." 

She  paused,  breathless,  and  took  a  sip  from  the 
flask  that  Denis  held  to  her  lips. 


194    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  A  man  came — came  to  the  house — the  servants 
say,  a  tall  fair  man  with  an  eye-glass " 

"  Von  Steinbriicke,  damn  him  ! "  cried  the  Prince. 

Denis  held  up  a  warning  hand. 

" and — and  said  that  the — Prince  was  very 

— ill,  had  been  hurt  in  a  carriage  accident  and 
might — die,  that  he  was  lying  in  his  apartments 
and  that  Colonel  von  Altdorf  was — was  with  him. 
The  man  said  that  the  Prince  begged  she  would — 
come  to  him  at  once — before  he  died " 

"Oh,  what  a  trick!"  groaned  the  Prince,  his 
hands  over  his  face.  "What  a  damnable  black 
guardly  trick ! " 

" She — she  waited  only  to  take  a  wrap  and 

a  hat  and — went  with  him.  He  had  a  carriage 
waiting.  The  servants  say  there  was  one  other 
man  in  the  carriage,  a  smaller  man.  They — they 
drove  away  quickly — and  that 's — that 's  all !  Oh, 
Mr.  Mallory!  Think  of  her  in  those  men's 
clutches !  Can't  you  save  her  ? "  and  the  poor 
young  woman  broke  down  in  a  most  piteous 
fit  of  weeping  with  her  face  upon  Mallory's  shoul 
der. 

"Save  her?"  he  cried  gently,  stroking  the 
loosened  black  hair,  "  why,  yes,  yes,  of  course,  we  '11 
save  her !  Never  fear,  we  '11  save  her  right 
enough." 

He  lifted  the  girl  to  the  divan  and  made  a  sign 
to  von  Altdorf  to  come  to  her  there — which  seemed 
a  task  much  to  that  gentleman's  liking.  Then  he 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    195 

rose  and  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room  thinking 
rapidly. 

"  Save  her  ?  "  he  cried  again,  but  as  if  to  himself. 
"  Aye,  we  '11  save  her !  But  what  to  do  ?  "What  to 
do?  Those  fools  of  servants  won't  have  noticed 
anything  that  could  help  us,  and  Steinbriicke  's  no 
such  fool  as  to  have  taken  a  cab  from  any  stand 
near  here.  The  police  ?  No,  the  police  are  out  of 
the  question.  The  thing  mustn't  get  abroad. 
Steinbrucke  knows  that.  Will  he  take  her  out  of 
Paris,  I  wonder  ?  Ted,  Ted,  if  only  you  'd  man 
aged  to  trace  the  man  to  his  lodgings !  Oh,  Teddy, 
you  're  no  detective !  " 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  for  some 
minutes,  head  bent,  brow  creased  and  hands  smi 
ting  softly  together.  We  all  watched  him  and 
waited  for  him  to  speak. 

I  think  his  taking  the  lead,  thus  at  once,  and 
without  question  or  hesitation,  moved  us  to  no 
surprise — if  we  thought  of  it  at  all — but  rather 
seemed  most  natural.  Even  old  MacKenzie  watched 
his  face  with  an  anxious  eye ;  and  from  the  divan, 
Colonel  von  Altdorf's  ministrations  as  nurse  and 
comforter,  became  absent  and  perfunctory  while 
his  eyes  followed  the  restless  march  up  and  down 
the  room. 

"  I  must  see  the  servants,"  he  said  after  awhile. 
"They  may  have  noticed  something  about  the 
fiacre,  the  horse's  colour,  the  look  of  the  cocher, 
something  to  give  us  a  clue.  It 's  just  possible." 


196    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

He  halted  before  the  divan. 

"  You  've  a  cipher  code  for  telegraphing  to  trust 
worthy  friends  in  Novodnia  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"Naturally,"  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf,  a  bit 
piqued  that  he  should  be  questioned  about  so  ele 
mentary  a  precaution. 

"  Then  listen,  man ! "  cried  Denis  swiftly. 
"  You  '11  telegraph  at  once  to  the  best  man  you 
have  down  there,  the  very  best,  to  intercept  any 
communications  they  can,  between  Georgias  and 
von  Steinbrucke,  bribe  Georgias'  servants,  do  any 
thing  possible  to  find  out  where  Steinbrucke  is 
now,  for  where  he  is  the  Princess  will  be.  Tell 
them  to  spare  no  pains  and  to  work  quickly.  It 's 
our  best  hope,  their  efforts.  Ted,  you  '11  come  with 
me  to  the  house — no,  no,  not  the  door,  the  window 
and  the  garden,  it 's  quickest.  We  must  find  if  the 
servants  have  taken  notice  of  Steinbriicke's  fiacre  ; 
and  then  you  're  to  prowl  about  the  city  looking 
out  for  it.  Sir  Gavin,  you'll  take  care  of  Miss 
Mannering." 

The  girl  raised  her  face  at  the  mention  of  her 
name  and  reached  an  arm  toward  him.  He 
dropped  one  knee  beside  the  divan  and  smiled  into 
her  eyes. 

"  Everything  will  be  done  that  men  can  do,"  said 
he  gently.  "  We  '11  have  her  back  again  before  you 
know  it.  You  must  n't  worry  nor  break  down  nor 
fall  ill,  because  we  shall  need  you.  Go  home  now 
with  Sir  Gavin  and  rest.  We  've  all  much  to  do." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    197 

Then  he  came  over  to  me  at  the  little  window 
and  we  ran  up  through  the  garden  to  the  old 
convent. 

The  servants  were  quite  as  stupid  as  one  could 
have  expected.  No,  they  had  noticed  nothing 
peculiar  about  the  fiacre.  Why  should  one  notice 
a  fiacre  ?  They  were  all  alike,  parbleu ! 

But  the  gentleman,  he  had  an  eye-glass,  a  mon 
ocle  in  the  left  eye,  and  spoke  French  with  an 
accent 

"  Yes,  yes  1 "  cried  Denis  impatiently,  "  we  know 
all  about  the  gentleman  and  his  eye-glass !  "What 
sort  of  a  fiacre  ?  Did  no  one  notice  the  horse,  what 
colour  was  it  ?  " 

But  here,  a  gardener  who  had  been  repairing  the 
spikes  on  top  of  the  high  wall  near  the  entrance, 
declared  that  the  horse  had  been  grey,  with  a  rat 
tail,  a  very  old  and  tired  horse. 

"  Our  friend  Steinbriicke  seems  to  have  a  certain 
fancy  for  grey  horses,"  observed  Denis  Mallory. 
"  A  grey  horse !  Good,  so  far !  And  the  cocher, 
was  he  of  the  Compagnie  Generale  or  the  Compagnie 
1'Urbaine?  In  other  words  did  he  wear  a  dark 
coat  and  a  black  hat,  or  a  tan  coat  and  a  white 
hat?" 

"  A  black  hat."  The  gardener  was  quite  positive. 
The  cocher  had  been  of  the  Compagnie  Generale. 
And  there  were  no  yellow  markings  on  the  fiacre, 
which  was  an  old  one,  old  as  the  grey  horse  and  the 
grey  cocher.  Anything  else?  No,  nothing — but 


198    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

yes,  on  second  thought — the  cocher  had  worn  a 
mourning  band  about  his  left  arm. 

Further  than  this  we  could  extract  nothing  from 
the  two  or  three  servants  who  had  seen  the  Princess' 
departure,  save  that  the  fiacre,  hood  raised,  had 
driven  off  up  the  rue  Denfert  Rochereau  toward  the 
Place  du  Lion — "  which  means  nothing,"  commented 
Denis  Mallory.  "  They  might  go  in  any  direction 
to  elude  a  possible  pursuit.  Ted,  you  must  take  a 
fiacre  and  cover  the  city,  so  far  as  you  can,  passing 
all  the  cab  ranks  possible,  on  the  watch  for  a  bat 
tered  old  voiture  of  the  Compagnie  Generate,  a 
voiture  with  an  old  grey  horse  and  an  old  grey 
cocher  who  wears  a  mourning  badge.  The  only 
quarter  you  need  not  search  is  this  one  about  us — 
Steinbrucke  's  no  fool.  If  you  find  the  man  bring 
him  here  at  once  and  do  n't  let  him  out  of  sight  till 
I  've  seen  him.  As  for  me  I  'm  off  to  see  a  friend 
of  mine,  a  police  official,  whom  I  did  a  good  turn 
once.  I  said  the  police  were  out  of  the  question, 
and  so  they  are,  in  the  usual  way,  but  I  think  I  can 
find  if  our  friends  leave  Paris,  without  any  one 
knowing  save  a  very  few  people  who  '11  never  tell. 
My  official  will  have  all  the  outgoing  trains  watched, 
but  he  '11  have  it  done  quite  unofficially.  There 's 
nothing  like  a  friend  in  the  police,  Teddy.  Off  with 
you  now !  We  must  lose  no  time." 

I  should  be  but  wearisome  were  I  to  go  into  the 
details  of  my  exhaustive  search  for  the  rest  of  that 
day  and  the  whole  of  the  two  days  following.  I 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    199 

made  a  plan  of  the  city  and  covered  it  patiently, 
avenue  by  avenue,  boulevard  by  boulevard,  scru 
tinising  each  cab  rank,  as  I  passed,  with  an  anxious, 
hopeful  eye.  It  seemed  that  half  the  cab  horses  in 
Paris  were  grey  and  half  the  cochers  old.  Nay,  by 
the  second  day  I  did  better.  I  went  to  every  sta 
ble  of  the  Compagnie  Generate  and  asked  for  a 
voiture  and  a  cocher  which  would  answer  my  de 
scription.  And  many  a  fruitless  errand  I  was  sent 
upon,  too,  but  I  never  found  the  old  colignon  with 
the  mourning  band  and  the  battered  fiacre. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  had,  meanwhile,  telegraphed 
instructions  to  trusty  colleagues  in  Novodnia,  the 
fullest  of  instructions,  and  was  employing  his  time, 
till  a  reply  might  come,  with  guarding  and  reas 
suring  the  Prince,  who,  poor  gentleman,  was  almost 
beside  himself  with  grief  and  impotent  fear  for  his 
wife's  safety.  He  would  have  been  off  alone  in  a 
mad  search  for  her  had  we  let  him  out  of  our  sight 
for  a  moment.  Aye,  he  loved  his  wife,  did  Karl  of 
Novodnia,  and  it  nearly  broke  his  heart  to  sit  still, 
holding  his  hands,  while  she  was,  God  knew  where, 
in  the  power  of  that  devil  Steinbrucke. 

Denis  had  gone  immediately  to  his  friend  of  the 
police,  and  no  train  left  Paris  from  any  station  but 
was  quietly  and  unobtrusively  watched.  Indeed, 
no  vehicle  passed  by  road  out  of  any  of  the  gates 
without  examination.  Denis's  service  to  the  police 
official  must  have  been  of  consequence. 

Further  than  this,  he  acted  most  curiously.    He 


200    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

spent  little  time  at  the  studio,  we  saw  him  at  in 
frequent  intervals,  but  appeared  to  pass  his  hours 
loafing  about  the  terrasses  of  cafes,  with  students 
and  cocottes.  I  saw  him  several  times  as  I  was 
driving  about  on  my  fruitless  search,  once  in  Mont- 
martre,  once  on  the  Boulevard  Sevastopol  and  once 
on  the  Boul'  Miche'  at  the  d'Harcourt.  This  last 
time  I  pulled  up  at  the  curb  and  signalled  to  him. 
He  was  sitting  at  a  little  table  surrounded  by  the 
sort  that  frequents  this  particular  cafe — and  it  is  the 
worst  sort  of  the  whole  Boulevard  St.  Michel. — 
"Well,  it  was  at  the  end  of  a  long  hard  day  wholly 
without  results,  and  I  suppose  I  was  out  of  temper 
with  fatigue  and  disappointment.  I  suppose  I 
spoke  sharply  to  him — he  had  seemed  so  care  free  and 
at  his  ease  there  amongst  vauriens  and  strumpets. 
His  eyes  flashed  up  at  me  an  instant,  as  he  stood  by 
the  wheel,  an  angry  flash.  I  half  raised  my  arm. 
Then  he  laughed. 

"  You  're  a  good  old  chap,  Teddy,"  said  he,  "  and 
you  're  doing  good  work,  but  you  've  small  imagina 
tion.  Man,  I  've  set  an  army  of  detectives  at  work 
throughout  Paris  that  not  the  whole  police  of  the 
continent  of  Europe  could  equal.  Half  the  lazy, 
loafing  rascals  in  the  city,  and  nearly  all  their  lady- 
friends,  are  on  the  lookout  for  von  Steinbriicke. 
They  '11  find  him  if  he 's  here.  Ah,  Ted,  there  come 
times  when  a  wasted  life  turns  up  trumps.  Make 
to  yourself  friends  o'  the  mammon  of  unrighteous 
ness,  Teddy,  it  may  stand  you  in. — Run  away  home 


now,  I  'm  busy.  I  've  the  very  littlest  trace  of  a 
clue,  the  very  littlest,  but  still  a  clue.  Found  your 
cocher  yet  ?  No  ?  I  did  n't  expect  you  would. 
Steinbrucke  's  no  fool,  eh  ?  Kun  along,  now." 

And  that  night  as  we  sat  planning  and  comparing 
notes  in  the  studio,  Denis  for  once  among  us,  a  long 
telegram  in  cipher  came  to  von  Altdorf,  several 
pages  of  it. 

"  Good  old  Czerowitz ! "  he  cried.  "  I  knew 
Czerowitz  would  do  the  work.  See,  he 's  sent  the 
thing  from  Yienna !  That  means  he  would  n't  risk 
the  wires  from  Novodni  or  Belgrade,  but  had  a  mes 
senger  go  to  Yienna  and  telegraph  from  there — 
good  old  Czerowitz ! " 

Then  he  sat  down  at  Denis's  table  with  pen  and 
paper  and  translated  the  cipher. 

" '  Message  to  Georgias  from  Paris,  via  Yienna 
Belgrade  and  Novodni,  to  Makarin  in  the  hills,' " 
he  said  presently.  "'Wire  cut — by  my  orders — 
between  Novodni  and  Makarin — message  read  only 

by — trustworthy — operator — message  follows 

"  She  is — in  our  hands He,  well  guarded — we 

remain — Paris  till — orders  from  you Safe  hid 
ing  place  " — end  of  message — wires  cut  or  guarded 
— borders  watched — believe  communications  success 
fully — broken — address  Hoffmeyer,  Bristol,  Yi 
enna.'  " 

Yon  Altdorf  threw  down  his  pen  and  beat  upon 
the  table  with  his  fist. 

"  Sir,"  he  cried,  turning  to  the  Prince,  "  I  recom- 


202    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

mend  Commandant  Czerowitz  for  advancement  in 
your  service.  He 's  a  man  in  a  million !  The  thing 
could  n't  have  been  better  done ! " 

But  the  Prince's  eyes  were  wide  and  eager. 

"She's  in  Paris  then?"  said  he.  "She's  in 
Paris  ?  Thank  God !  We  shall  find  her !  Gentle 
men,  we  must  find  her ! " 

Denis  nodded  from  his  corner. 

"  We  '11  find  her,  sir,"  he  promised. 

But  old  MacKensie,  stiff  and  gloomy  on  the  divan, 
shook  his  big  head  and  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  from 
his  briar. 

"Will  ye  though?"  he  growled.  "Paris  is  a 
wide  covert,  my  lad,  an'  yon  villain  of  an  Austrian 
is  no  fool !  Look  to  your  work  if  ye  'd  outwit  him." 

And  indeed  Denis's  promise  seemed  a  rash  one, 
for  day  after  day  went  by  and  we  made  no  progress. 
Von  Altdorf  continued  to  hear  from  Novodnia 
through  his  agent  at  Vienna.  Georgias's  communi 
cations  with  von  Steinbriicke  seemed  definitely  to 
have  been  interrupted.  The  latter  must  have  sus 
pected  that  something  was  wrong,  for  he  ceased, 
after  a  time,  sending  messages,  but  of  his  where 
abouts  in  Paris  we  gained  no  clue. 

Of  Denis  we  saw  little.  He  was  off  upon  searches 
and  consultations  all  of  the  day  and  most  of  the 
night,  and  of  what  he  was  doing  he  saw  fit  to  tell 
us  nothing.  That  he  was  working  desperately  we 
knew,  and  that  the  strain  and  anxiety  were  telling 
upon  him  was  only  too  apparent,  for  he  grew  thin- 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    203 

ner  and  paler  day  by  day,  and  his  eyes  took  on  a 
look  that  I  dreaded  to  see. 

Ah  well,  it  was  a  bad  week  for  us  all. 

But  on  the  fifth  day  after  the  Princess  Eleanor's 
capture,  our  waiting  was  brought  to  a  sudden  end. 


CHAPTER  XYII 

COLONEL  VON  ALTDORF,  passing  along 
the  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  where  he  had 
been  making  some  necessary  purchases,  ran 
upon  Denis  who  was  engaged  in  certain  of  his 
secret  investigations,  and  the  two  walked  down 
together  to  the  Place  de  I'Opfera. 

"  We  might  stop  in  at  the  Cafe  de  la  Paix  for  a 
moment,"  suggested  von  Altdorf.  "  I  'm  fagged  a 
bit,  and  you  look  quite  done  up.  Take  it  easier, 
lad,  fretting  yourself  to  death  won't  do  any  good. 

I  know  it 's  a  bad  enough  business,  but Great 

God  in  Heaven! — Here,  turn  your  back  quickly. 
— No,  come  around  in  front.  Look  sharp,  man, 
look  sharp ! " 

They  had  been  standing  at  the  corner  of  the  wide 
terrasse  of  the  Caf6  de  la  Paix  which  fronts  both 
the  Boulevard  and  the  rue  Auber.  The  triple  tier  of 
little  tables  on  the  Boulevard  side  is  always  crowded 
of  an  afternoon,  and  was  at  this  time,  but  on  the 
side  facing  the  rue  Auber  there  are  commonly  but 
few  people,  the  overflow  from  the  front. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  dragged  Denis  along  the 
Boulevard  side  till  they  were  out  of  sight  from  the 
tables  upon  the  rue  Auber.  His  voice  shook  a  bit 
with  excitement  when  he  spoke. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    205 

" Listen  1"  said  he,  "the  tall  light-haired  man 
with  the  eye-glass  sitting  in  the  rear  row  of  tables 
on  the  rue  Auber  terrasse  is  Baron  von  Steinbrucke. 
He 's  never  seen  you  and  of  course  won't  know  who 
you  are.  "When  he  leaves,  shadow  him.  Do  n't  lose 
sight  of  him,  for  your  life.  The  whole  game  is  in 
our  hands,  now,  if  you  succeed  in  tracking  him  to 
his  quarters.  Here,  take  a  seat  at  this  table  near 
the  corner,  against  the  wall.  You  can  see  him 
from  here  but  he  can't  see  you.  I  'm  going  to  have 
a  little  chat  with  him.  It  can't  do  any  harm,  and 
may  be  amusing.  I  shall  go  away  soon.  When  he 
sees  me  out  of  sight,  he'll  bolt.  Then's  your 
chance." 

Denis  seated  himself  at  the  little  table  against 
the  wall  and  ordered  a  vermouth  sec,  and  Colonel 
von  Altdorf  strolled  around  the  corner  swinging  his 
stick  and  nonchalantly  searching  for  a  place.  His 
eye  lit  up  with  genuine  pleasure  as  he  caught  sight 
of  the  gentleman  with  the  eye-glass,  and  he  advanced 
with  outstretched  hand. 

"  "What,  you  in  Paris,  my  dear  Baron  ?  "  he  cried 
in  a  tone  of  delighted  surprise.  "  And  you  never 
looked  me  up!"  he  protested  sorrowfully  as  he 
dropped  into  a  chair.  "  Ah,  that  was  n't  kind ! " 

The  light-haired  gentleman  with  the  eye-glass 
took  one  quick  breath  and  his  drooping  left  eyelid 
hung  a  bit  lower.  He  licked  his  lips  as  if  he  found 
them  suddenly  dry,  but  the  florid  colour  in  his  cheeks 
never  deepened  or  paled,  and  presently  he  smiled. 


206    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  Well,  you  see,"  he  began,  slowly  and  as  if  with 
some  reluctance,  "  you  see,  my  dear  Colonel,  I  'm 
not  here  in  propria  persona,  as  it  were.  I  'm  here 
on  important  business — business  connected  with  the 
Prince,"  he  added  maliciously. 

"  Ah  ?  "    said  the  Colonel  in  a  pleasant  tone. 

"He  left  Novodnia  rather — er  suddenly,"  com 
mented  the  light-haired  gentleman  with  the  eye 
glass. 

"  Why  yes,"  said  von  Altdorf,  "  rather  sud 
denly  as  you  say. — Still  a  prince  may  do  as  he 
will.  Besides,  he  wanted  to  see  me  upon  matters  of 
importance.  And  Paris  in  the  spring-time  is  n't  a 
bad  place  to  spend  a  fortnight." 

"  And  the — er  lady  ?  "  suggested  von  Steinbrticke 
in  a  deprecatory  tone. 

Von  Altdorf  laughed. 

"To  be  sure!"  he  cried,  "the  lady!  We 
must  n't  forget  the  love  affair  1  Ah,  well,  sha'  n't 
a  young  man  have  his  little  flirtations,  even  if  he 's 
a  prince  ?  Jeunesse,  jeunesse !  We  also  were 
young,  once,  Baron." 

Baron  von  Steinbriicke  took  a  long  draught  of 
beer  from  the  mug  before  him,  and  that  sinister  left 
eyelid  drooped. 

"  Still,  when  we  were  young,"  he  objected,  "  we 
didn't  call  love-making  with  our  wives,  flirtation, 
did  we?" 

Yon  Altdorf  allowed  himself  another  laugh. 

"  Wives  ?  wives  ?  "  he  cried.     "  Come,  my  dear 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    207 

Baron,  you  're  too  old  a  fox  to  have  believed  that 
silly  tale  of  the  Prince's  marriage!  That  was 
Pavelovitch  talk,  political  lies.  Why,  surely  if  the 
Prince  were  married  to  this — er  lady,  he'd  not 
have  gone  back  to  Novodnia  last  night  alone! 
He  'd  have  taken  her  with  him — even  if  he  had  to 
wait  a  bit  till  she  was  ready." 

The  beer  mug  clattered  slightly  upon  the  marble 
top  of  the  little  table,  but  Baron  von  Steinbriicke's 
smile  was  undisturbed. 

"  The  Prince  gone  back  ?  "  he  enquired.  "  Why 
then  my  man  who  watches  the  Prince's  lodgings 
must  be  a  shocking  liar,  must  n't  he  ?  for  he  says 
the  Prince  is  still  very  much  here." 

"But  you  see,"  protested  Colonel  von  Altdorf, 
"  you  see  that  man  is  in  my  pay.  He 's  hardly  a 
reliable  spy.  I'd  discharge  him  if  I  were  you, 
Baron." 

Baron  von  Steinbriicke  smiled  appreciatively  and 
shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  said  he,  still  smiling,  "  no,  it  won't  do,  my 
friend.  Were  I  a  younger  man,  or  had  n't  we  met 
before,  I  might  be  disturbed,  but — no,  it  won't  do. 
Come,  Colonel,  we  beat  about  the  bush.  Why  not 
be  frank  ?  I  've  got  your  Princess — or  at  least  the 
lady  that  Karl  wants  to  make  a  princess.  I  've  got 
her  in  safe-keeping,  and  I  shall  hold  her  there  as 
long  as  I  like." 

"  And  that,"  suggested  the  Colonel,  "  that  will  be 
as  long " 


2o8    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"As  long  as  it  is  necessary  to  keep  Prince  Karl 
out  of  Novodnia,  for  he  '11  never  go  back  there 
•with  his  wife  in  durance.  He  '11  search  till  he 's 
found  her.  Meanwhile — why  meanwhile  there 's  an 
empty  seat  in  the  palace  at  Novodni,  Colonel,  and 
a  populace  very,  very  discontented  at  the  notion  of 
a  foreign  commoner  princess,  and  none  too  pleased 
at  the  Prince's  absence,  perhaps  none  too  pleased 
with  the  Prince  in  any  event.  Shall  the  seat  remain 
empty,  my  friend  ?  There 's  a  man  in  the  mountains 
would  fill  it  well.  Ah,  we  've  the  upper  hand  of  you 
this  time,  Colonel." 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  leaned  over  the  little  table 
and  smiled  pleasantly  into  the  Austrian's  eyes. 

"  You  've  stated  the  conditions,  Baron,"  said  he ; 
"  that  is  you  've  stated  them  from  your  point  of 
view — I  hold  another — but  they  were  to  lead  up  to 
something.  The  proposition,  my  friend  ?  " 

Baron  von  Steinbrucke  removed  his  eye-glass  and 
polished  it  with  some  care.  He  showed  the  slight 
est  trace  of  nervousness,  the  very  slightest  possible. 

"  Why,  as  for  that,"  said  he  with  a  shrug,  "  I  've 
no  great  love  for  George  and  his  crew." 

"Ah!"  breathed  Colonel  von  Altdorf.  "You'd 
sell  out  ?  I  thought  so.  And  the — er  price  ?  " 

Yon  Stein briicke  gave  a  little  nervous  laugh,  it 
would  seem  of  relief. 

"  It 's  not  prohibitive,"  said  he  lightly.  "  A 
warm  berth  at  court,  enough  to  pay  one's  little 
gaming  debts,  to  keep  against  one's  old  age.  Herr 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    209 

Gott !  shall  a  man  serve  a  mob  of  bandits,  of  prowl 
ing  pretenders  when  he  might  take  the  place  his 
merits  deserve  in  a  reigning  Prince's  train  ?  Come, 
give  me  countenance  at  court  and  an  income,  and 
we  '11  send  Georgias  to  the  devil !  I  'm  tired  of 
sneaking  and  intrigue.  Let  Karl  have  his  nestmate 
— by  heaven  I  like  his  taste,  she 's  a  beauty  !  And 
we  '11  all  go  back  to  Novodni  for  the  coronation." 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  appeared  to  be  meditating. 

"  And  our  warrant  that  you  '11  be  faithful  to  us  ?  " 
he  enquired  presently.  "  How  are  we  to  know  sure 
that  you  won't  sell  us  out  in  turn  to  Georgias  or 
some  one  else  ?  " 

"  My  word  of  honour,"  said  the  Baron  von  Stein- 
briicke  pompously. 

Yon  Altdorf  laughed. 

"  Come,  come,  Baron  ! "  he  cried. 

The  Baron  flushed  purple  and  cursed  softly  to 
himself. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  leaned  once  more  over  the 
little  table,  his  elbows  among  the  glasses  and 
saucers. 

"  I  have  known  you,  Baron,"  said  he  slowly,  "  for 
many  years.  I  knew  of  you  for  many  years  before 
ever  I  saw  you,  and  in  all  that  time  I  have  never 
heard  any  good  of  you,  nothing  but  bad  faith,  dis 
honour  and  disgrace.  I  know  you  for  liar,  card- 
cheat,  blackmailer,  husband  of  convenience 

Keep  your  hands  down,  Baron  von  Steinbrucke ! 
this  is  a  conspicuous  corner — catspaw  for  criminals 

14 


210    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

in  high  places  whose  own  hands  must  be  concealed, 
pander  to  a  rotten  nobility,  blackguard  in  general ! 
You've  won  money  by  sharp  play  from  your  own 
guests  in  your  own  house.  You  've  trapped  young 
girls  and  turned  them  loose  afterward  upon  the 
streets.  You  've  compromised  women  of  rank  and 
demanded  money  of  them  to  hold  your  tongue. 
There's  been  no  deed  so  vile,  so  foul  that  you 

would  n't  do  it  for  a  price And  now  you  ask 

Prince  Karl  of  Novodnia  for  a  place  in  his  court 
and  offer  your  word  of  honour — honour  forsooth ! — 
that,  you  will  be  his  faithful  subject ! 

"  I  do  n't  know,  sir,  why  a  God,  whom  we  are 
taught  is  all  wise,  allows  such  swine  as  you  to  wan 
der  and  root  upon  the  earth;  possibly  for  an  ex 
ample  to  men  of  honour  of  how  low  human  nature 
without  that  honour  may  be  brought.  As  for 
Prince  Karl  and  us,  his  friends,  we  want  none  of 
you  save  as  an  enemy.  I  wish  Georgias  joy  of 
your  loyalty." 

The  Austrian's  hand  shook  upon  his  beer  mug 
and  his  face  writhed  and  twisted  in  a  snarl  almost 
canine.  He  dared  not,  as  von  Altdorf  well  knew, 
provoke  a  brawl  in  front  of  the  Cafe  de  la  Paix. 
He  dared  not  strike  with  the  heavy  beer  mug  at 
which  his  fingers  clutched  longingly.  He  dared 
not  even  raise  his  voice,  with  the  two  dapper  look 
ing  gendarmes  standing  at  ease  half  a  dozen  paces 
from  where  he  sat. 

"  By  heaven,  you  '11   pay  for  this  ! "   he  cried, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    211 

softly,  and  his  voice  trembled  with  rage.  "  You  '11 
pay  for  the  pleasure  of  sitting  here  and  blackguard 
ing  me  as  you  like.  I  Ve  got  the  woman,  curse 
you  !  She  '11  be  the  worse  for  your  fine  speech,  my 
Colonel!  She '11  pay!" 

Colonel  von  Altdorf's  face  set  all  at  once  hard 
and  stern,  and  his  eyes  glowed  from  under  drawn 
brows. 

"  No,  she  won't,"  said  he,  "  no,  she  won't,  my 
blackleg !  What  you  're  after  is  to  keep  Prince  Karl 
out  of  Novodnia.  If  you  kill  the  Princess  there  is 
nothing  left  to  prevent  him  from  returning.  If  you 
harm  her  in  any  littlest  way  you'll  be  hounded 
over  the  continent  of  Europe,  aye,  and  over  as 
many  continents  as  lie  between  seas,  till  you're 
dead.  You  know  Karl  as  well  as  I  do.  Happy, 
with  a  restored  and  unhurt  wife,  he  may  prove  a 
forgiving  or  a  careless  foe,  but  bring  any  harm  to 
this  woman,  and  God  have  mercy  on  your  soul,  von 
Stembriicke,  Karl  of  Novodnia  will  have  none  on 
your  body,  nor  Karl's  friends  or  servants  either. 
Abduction  as  a  political  trick  is  all  very  well,  but 
see  you  to  it  that  it  goes  no  further.  And  now  I  '11 
be  moving  on.  I  saw  you  here,  von  Steinbrucke, 
and  took  it  into  my  head  to  have  a  bit  of  chat  with 
you.  The  chat  has  been  quite  delightful.  It  has 
relieved  a  congested  temper.  Good-afternoon,  my 
adventurous  friend — oh,  and  a  word  of  warning! 
Stick  to  beer  when  you  're  out  of  an  evening. 
Hotter  liquors  muddle  the  judgment.  Jenkins  of 


212    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Manchester  tells  queer  tales  of  you Good- 
afternoon,  Herr  Baron." 

He  caught  one  glance  at  the  Austrian's  face  when 
Jenkins  of  Manchester  was  mentioned,  and  the 
glance  seemed  to  amuse  him.  Then  he  yawned 
slightly,  took  up  his  stick  and  gloves  and  moved 
out  to  the  curb. 

An  omnibus  bound  for  the  Place  St.  Michel  came 
down  the  rue  Auber  and  halted  at  the  corner  to 
wait  for  a  chance  to  cross  the  crowded  Boulevard. 
Von  Altdorf  stepped  upon  the  platform  and  mounted 
to  the  Imperiale,  where  he  sat  smiling  and  contented 
while  the  clumsy  vehicle  rolled  down  the  Avenue  de 
1'Opera.  Herr  von  Steinbriicke  gazed  after  it  with 
open  mouth. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

VON  ALTDORF  changed  at  the  foot  of  the 
Avenue  de  1'Opera,  from  the  omnibus  to  a 
cab,  and  came  directly  to  the  studio  in  the 
rue  Boissonade  where  he  told  us  all  that  had  oc 
curred. 

"  I  suppose  I  was  foolish  to  speak  to  the  man,"  he 
admitted,  "  and  more  foolish  still  to  blackguard  him, 
but  it  was  a  chance  I  could  n't  resist.  After  all, 
angry  though  he  is,  he  won't  dare  harm  the  Prin 
cess,  and  besides,  if  Denis  tracks  him  home,  we 
should  be  able  to  storm  the  place  and  carry  her  off 
to-night." 

"God  send  Denis  doesn't  lose  track  of  him!" 
said  I. 

"  Never  you  fear  for  Denis,"  cried  von  Altdorf. 
"Denis  won't  lose  him.  You  should  have  seen 
Denis's  face  when  we  caught  sight  of  the  man! 
Oh,  no,  Denis  will  track  him  right  enough." 

He  stopped  a  moment  to  laugh. 

"  Eh,  but  you  should  have  seen  Steinbrticke  when 
I  was  telling  him  my  frank  opinion  of  his  virtues  ! 
He  'd  have  given  years  of  his  life  to  brain  me  with 
his  beer  mug.  I  '11  confess  that  my  object  in  speak 
ing  to  him  wasn't  to  pick  a  quarrel.  I  thought 
something  might  be  gotten  out  of  him,  that  he 


214    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

might  be  bought  off  for  a  sum,  and  the  Princess 
rescued  at  once.  That  would  have  been  worth 
while.  Still,  we  shall  get  her  away  promptly.  I 
feel  sure  of  that.  It  all  rests  with  Denis,  and  by 
heaven  it  could  n't  rest  with  a  better  man !  Of 
course  Steinbrucke  bolted  for  home  the  moment  I 
was  out  of  sight.  He  'd  be  expecting  me  to  come 
back  and  follow  him.  That's  why  I  took  an  omni 
bus  instead  of  a  cab.  He  could  see  me  far  down 
the  avenue.  He'll  never  be  thinking  of  another 
man.  Denis  should  be  here  in  an  hour  or  so  if 
Steinbriicke  went  directly  to  his  lodgings." 

"We  sat,  excitedly  talking  the  matter  over,  specu 
lating  as  to  Denis's  probable  success  and  as  to  how 
we  were  to  go  about  a  rescue,  when  there  came  a 
knock  at  the  door,  a  slow  timid  knock. 

"  That  will  never  be  he,"  said  I.  "  He  would  n't 
knock.  He'd  come  in  at  once."  I  went  to  the 
door  and  opened  it,  and  a  young  Frenchwoman 
asked  for  Monsieur  Denis.  She  pronounced  the 
name  after  the  French  fashion  and  for  an  instant  I 
was  puzzled,  not  recognising  it  at  all. 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  there 's  no  one  of  that  name  here. 
This  is  Monsieur  Mallory's  studio." 

"  Mais  si,  si ! "  insisted  the  girl.  "  M.  Mallory, 
M.  Denis  Mallory — St.  Denis ! " 

And  I  remembered  that  Denis's  friends  of  the 
Quarter  called  him  "  St.  Denis." 

I  told  her  that  Denis  was  away  at  the  moment 
but  that  we  expected  him  soon,  and  she  came  in  to 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    215 

wait,  saying  her  business  was  important.  She  sat 
in  a  corner  of  the  divan,  eyeing  us  distrustfully  and 
answering  with  a  yes  or  a  no  to  the  civil  questions 
we  put. 

She  must  once  have  been  an  unusually  beautiful 
girl,  even  for  her  class  where  there  are  many  beau 
ties,  but  illness  or  dissipation  had  hollowed  her 
eyes  and  cheeks,  and  drawn  lines  in  her  face.  She 
coughed  from  time  to  time,  and  in  each  of  her  thin 
cheeks  was  a  spot  of  bright  colour. 

"  Consumption  ! "  observed  old  MacKenzie  be 
hind  his  hand.  "  Gallopin'  consumption !  Thou 
sands  of  them  have  it.  Poor  body !  she 's  near  the 
end  of  her  strength." 

Then,  presently,  there  was  a  quick  rattle  of  wheels 
in  the  street  outside,  that  ceased  as  quickly.  I  ran 
to  the  window  and  peered  out. 

"  It 's  he ! "  said  I.  "  It  's  he,  and  I  '11  swear  he 's 
been  successful  for  he 's  laughing !  He  chucked 
the  concierge  under  the  chin  as  he  passed  her  loge. 
Here  he  comes Hurrah,  he  's  won  !  " 

And  Denis  burst  into  the  room  with  a  shout. 

"  I  've  got  him  !  "  he  cried  almost  before  he  was 
through  the  door.  "  I  've  got  him  !  He  's  right 
here  in  the  Quarter  as  I  thought !  Oh,  such  a  tale 
as  I  've  got  to  tell !  Why — why  Colette,  Colette  ! 
You,  child  ?  What  in  the  world  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

But  the  girl  ran  to  him  calling  him  by  name. 
"  St.  Denis,  St.  Denis  !  "  in  her  French  fashion,  over 
and  over  again,  and  caught  him  about  the  shoulders, 


216    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

clinging  to  him,  turning  her  white  face  up  to  his, 
laughing  and  sobbing  together. 

"Why,  what  is  it,  child?  What  is  it?"  said 
Denis,  slipping  an  arm  about  her,  and  looking  down 
into  her  eyes  with  a  puzzled  frown. 

"  Listen,  St.  Denis  !  "  cried  the  girl,  holding  him 
still  by  the  shoulders,  and  straining  her  face  up 
toward  his,  eagerly,  "  listen !  I  've  found  the  man 
you  seek !  the  man  who  stole  the — the  lady  from 
you !  I  know  where  he  lives.  I  've  been  there. 
It 's  in  the  impasse  du  Maine.  Ah,  St.  Denis,  I  've 
found  him ! " 

"  Why,  bless  you,  Mignonne,  so  have  I !  "  cried 
Denis  with  a  laugh.  "  I  've  just  come  from  there. 
Ah,  we  '11  have  a  settlement  a  bit  later,  my  German 
and  I — but  come,  child,  you  're  weak,  you  're  trem 
bling  !  pauvre  petite,  you  're  fagged  out !  Come 
over  to  the  divan,  here,  and  tell  me  all  about  it,  all 
you  know  and  how  you  came  to  know  it." 

He  led  the  girl  over  to  the  divan  and  sat  there 
with  her,  holding  her  hands  in  one  of  his,  and  pat 
ting  her  shoulder  gently,  for  she  seemed  very,  very 
tired,  quite  worn  out,  and  sobbed  hysterically. 

"  Poor  little  tired  out  girl ! "  he  cried  very  low. 
"  Poor  little  girl !  Colette,  you  have  n't  been  well, 
your  cheeks  are  thin,  Mignonne,  your  eyes  are 
hollow.  You  must  rest,  take  a  month  a  la  cam- 
pagne.  We  '11  see  about  it,  hein  ?  " 

But  the  girl  drew  a  little  away  from  him,  shaking 
her  head. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    217 

"Ah,  never  mind  me,"  she  said.  "Listen,  St. 
Denis,  I  must  tell  you  about  the  man  and — and 
about  Madame.  It  was  Fifi  Dumond  who  told  me 
that  you  were  looking  for  the  Allemand  with  the 
yellow  hair  and  the  eye-glass  and  the  queer  left  eye 
lid — and  about  the  vieux  cocher  with  the  mourning 
band  on  his  arm.  I  found  the  cocher,  quite  by  ac 
cident,  away  over  beyond  the  Arc  near  the  marche 
des  Ternes.  I  'd  been  over  there  to  see  a — a  friend, 
and  I  came  upon  the  cocher  sitting  asleep  on  his 
fiacre  by  the  curb.  He  was  alone,  not  in  a  cab 
rank » 

"  One  for  you,  Teddy !  "  said  Denis,  looking  up 
with  a  smile. 

" 1  wakened  him,"  continued  the  girl,  "  and 

asked  him  about  the  Allemand  with  a  monocle  who 
had  driven  to  the  rue  Denf ert  Rochereau  and  taken 
a  lady  away.  I  told  him  that  the  Allemand  was  a 
friend  whom  I  wanted  to  find  and  whose  address  I 
did  n't  know.  He  was  suspicious,  the  cocher,  and 
would  n't  tell  me  anything  about  it,  though  I  begged 
and  teased  and  offered  him  all  the  money  I  had — 
but  I — I  found  a — way " 

"  Colette,  Colette  !  "  cried  Denis  suddenly  and 
turned  the  girl's  averted  face  with  his  hands  till  he 
could  see  her  eyes.  "  What  do  you — mean — child  ?  " 
What  do  you  mean  ?  "  His  voice  was  sharp  with 
pain  and  horror. 

But  she  hid  her  face  from  him  and  would  not 
look  up. 


218    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  What  does  it  matter  ?  "  she  murmured,  "  to — 
such  as — I  am  ?  Ah,  I  was  doing  it  for  you,  St. 
Denis.  I  'd  have  spared  nothing,  nothing !  No, 
wait,  listen !  So  the  cocher  took  me  finally  to  the 
impasse  du  Maine  where  he  'd  taken  the  Allemand 
and  Madame.  Number  18  it  is,  18  bis,  at  the  inner 
end  of  the  impasse.  I  knew  the  concierge,  old 
Mme.  Lambert,  and  talked  with  her,  asked  her 
what  painters  were  in  the  house  now,  for  I  'd  posed 
there  a  long  time  before.  And  Mme.  Lambert  told 
me  there  were  four  etrangers  lately  come  to  take 
the  suite,  au  premier,  at  the  right  of  the  courtyard. 
She  thought  they  were  Prussian  pigs,  and  that  the 
sister  of  one  of  them  was  there  also,  une  grande 
dame,  tres  belle.  She  said  that  the  pig  with  the 
eye-glass  had  asked  her  to  look  up  a  maid  for 
Madame,  and  that  she  had  sent  word  to  Diane  St. 
Pierre,  but  that  if  I  wanted  the  place  she  would 
recommend  me  to  Monsieur  for  half  my  first  week's 
wages " 

"  Good,  good ! "  cried  Denis.  "  Did  you  take  it, 
child  ?  did  you  take  it  ?  " 

The  girl  nodded  wearily. 

"Yes,  St.  Denis.  Yes,  I  took  the  place. 
I've  been  there  caring  for  Madame  for  three 
days." 

"  But,"  said  Denis,  with  puzzled  brows,  "  but  I 
do  n't  understand — I  do  n't  quite  see !  Why  did  n't 
you  get  word  to  us  before,  Colette  ? — three  whole 
days ! " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    219 

The  girl  turned  away  from  him  and  hid  her  face 
in  her  hands. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,  St.  Denis,"  she  said  very  low. 
"  I  can't  tell  you — ah,  is  n't  it  enough  that  I  come 
to  you,  now  ?  Is  n't  it  enough  that  I  'm  giving  her 
— giving  her  back  to  you,  now  ?  " 

Denis  sat  for  a  long  time  staring  at  the  bowed 
head  and  drooping  shoulders. 

He  raised  his  face  and  motioned  to  me  with  his 
eyes.  The  Prince,  von  Altdorf  and  MacKenzie  and 
I,  rose  quietly  and  went  out  of  the  studio  into  the 
sleeping-room  beyond,  and  dropped  the  portiere 
behind  us. 

Then,  after  a  time,  the  girl  turned  once  more  and 
put  up  her  hands  upon  Denis's  breast. 

"  Do  you — do  you  love  her  very,  very  dearly,  St. 
Denis  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  whisper.  The  great  eyes 
burnt  into  his. 

"  Better  than  my  life,  child,"  said  he  gently, 
"  but  she 's  not  for  me.  She  is  another  man's  wife, 
and  will  go  to  him  if  we  rescue  her.  She 's  a  prin 
cess,  Colette." 

The  girl's  face  dropped  upon  his  breast  and  she 
shivered  a  little. 

"  Yet  you  'd  bring  her  back,  St.  Denis  ?  You  'd 
bring  her  back  for  the  other  man?  You'd  risk 
your  life  to  do  it  ?  You  'd  be  so  noble  as  that  ? 
Ah,  St.  Denis,  I  did  n't  know !  I  thought  it  was 
for  yourself,  and  I — I  could  n't  bear  the  thought  of 
it.  I  was  strong  enough  to  go  so  far — to  do  what 


220    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

— what  I  did,  but  when  I  saw  her,  St.  Denis,  beau 
tiful  as  the  Mother  of  God,  pure  as  an  angel,  glori 
ous  as — as  nothing  else  I  ever  saw  in  the  world,  1 
could  n't  bear  the  thought  of  her  coming  to  you — 
even  though  I  'd  lost  you  long  since.  St.  Denis, 
she  tried  to  send  messages  by  me  to — to  M.  le  docteur 
Mac — Mac  something,  and  to  M.  le  Colonel  von 
Altdorf  but  I  would  n't  take  them.  I  told  her  that 
I  dared  not — all  because  I  was  so  madly  jealous — 
St.  Denis!  St.  Denis,  will  you  ever  forgive 
me?" 

"  Forgive  you,  child  ?  "  cried  Denis,  "  forgive  you, 
after  what  you — you  did?  after  the  sacrifice  you 
made  all  for  my  sake  ?  Ah,  Colette,  Colette,  shall  I 
ever  forgive  myself!"  His  voice  choked  and  he 
bent  over  the  dark  head  and  raised  the  face  and 
kissed  it. 

"  I  shall  never  forget,  Mignonne,"  said  he,  "  never 
till  I  die,  for  it  was  the  most  utter  sacrifice  I  have 
ever  known.  No  one  ever  did  so  much  for  a  man. 
Oh,  child,  child,  to  have  sold  yourself  for  me ! " 

But  the  girl  crept  closer  to  him  and  lifted  her 
face  with  a  little  sobbing  laugh. 

"  Ah,  do  n't  feel  so  over  it ! "  she  begged.  "  It 
was  nothing,  just  nothing !  Why,  see,  I  'm  laugh 
ing,  St.  Denis.  Shall  not  a  girl  love  a  man  ?  And 
shall  she  not  make  any  sacrifice  for  him,  to  gain 
him  what  he  wishes  ?  Think  what  you  did  for  me 
— long  ago !  Think  how  you  took  me  in  from  the 
street,  ill,  half  starved,  desperate !  I  'd  no  claim 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    221 

upon  you,  St.  Denis,  but  you  pitied  me — loved  me 
a  little  I  like  to  think — let  me  think  so,  St.  Denis ! 
Leave  me  my  dreams!  And  I,  how  did  I  treat 
you?  Kan  away  for  a  petty  spite,  shamed  you, 
played  you  false — but  it  was  all  because  I  loved 
you — and  because  I  was  a  woman.  Hadn't  I  a 
debt  to  pay,  mon  cceur  ?  Tell  me  I  've  paid  it,  St. 
Denis  !  Tell  me  you  forgive  me !  I  do  n't  ask  for 
love  or  tenderness,  we  're  past  that,  but  tell  me  that 
I  've  paid  the  debt  and  that  you  forgive  me  !  Ah, 
now  I  must  go.  You  've  made  me  happy  again  as 

I  thought  never  to  be  happy You  will  rescue 

Madame,  will  you  not,  St.  Denis?  La  pauvre, 
Madame !  She  sits  like  a  queen  in  prison  waiting, 

always  waiting No,  they  do  her  no  harm. 

They  are  polite  always.  She  has  her  own  little 
room  where  I  care  for  her,  and  she  is  well,  but  she 
cannot  bear  it  long.  Tell  me  what  I  can  do  to 
help  you." 

Denis  crossed  the  room  to  a  little  cabinet  upon 
the  wall,  and  came  back  with  a  tiny  pistol,  an 
American  revolver,  chased  and  enamelled.  It 
looked  a  mere  toy,  but  such  toys  can  be  deadly 
playthings. 

"Listen,  Colette,"  said  he.  "Give  this  to  Ma 
dame  and  tell  her  to  hide  it  about  her  somewhere. 
Tell  her  that  to-night  we  will  come  to  her  rescue, 
to-night  at  about  two  o'clock.  Tell  her  to  be 
dressed  and  waiting  in  her  little  room,  waiting  with 
the  pistol  in  her  hand,  but  that  she  must  not  fire  it 


222    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

save  in  direst  need.  She  must  use  it  in  defense 
only.  When  we  break  in  the  doors,  one  of  the  four 
men  who  hold  the  Princess  captive,  will  rush  to  her 
room  and  try,  either  to  take  her  away  while  the 
others  hold  us  back,  or  else  to  do  her  harm.  She 
must  keep  him  off  with  the  pistol.  He  will  not  be 
difficult,  I  think,  for  he  won't  dare  risk  the  sound 
of  a  shot.  That  is  all.  "We  will  see  to  the  rest. 
She  must  be  ready  for  us.  As  for  you,  cherie,  when 
you  have  given  the  pistol  to  Madame  and  perhaps 
prepared  her  for  the  night,  you  must  go  away  at 
once.  You  cannot  help  us,  and  to  stay  would  be 
dangerous  for  you.  Make  some  excuse,  a  sister  ill, 
an  illness  yourself,  anything  to  get  away.  Now  go 
with  the  pistol,  Colette,  go  quickly.  Paid  your 
debt  ?  Oh,  child,  child,  you  've  paid  the  greatest 
price  of  all !  I  shall  never  forget." 

At  the  sound  of  a  closing  door  we  came  out  of 
the  sleeping  room  to  find  Denis  upon  the  divan 
with  his  head  in  his  hands.  There  were  tears  on 
his  cheeks  when  he  rose. 

"  Ah,  gentlemen,  gentlemen  !  "  he  cried,  "  yonder 
goes  a  woman  who  has  given  herself  up  to  shame 
unspeakable  to  bring  the  man  she  loved  to  the 
woman  whom  she  believed  he  loved.  Is  there  any 
sacrifice  greater  than  that  ?  She  has  shamed  me 
forever." 

He  went  to  the  window  and  stared  out  into  the 
gathering  dusk,  his  hands  clenched  behind  him. 

Then  after  a  time  he  turned  to  us  again  with  a 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    223 

little  shake  of  the  head  and  shoulders  as  if  he  would 
rid  himself  of  the  gloom  that  covered  him. 

"  And  now  for  my  tale ! "  he  cried  and  his  eyes 
sparkled.  "  By  my  faith,  it 's  worth  telling !  Look 
you,  von  Altdorf,  while  you  went  off  down  the 
Avenue  de  P Opera  grinning  from  the  top  of  your 
omnibus,  your  Austrian  friend  was  on  his  feet  be 
side  his  little  table  staring  after  you  like  a  man 
hypnotised.  He  could  n't  seem  to  make  out  your 
game  at  all.  He  was  fairly  puzzled.  I  saw  him 
shake  his  head  once  or  twice  and  mutter  to  himself, 
then  all  at  once  he  clinked  a  franc  on  the  table  and 
grabbing  up  his  stick  made  off  up  the  rue  Auber  on 
foot,  I  close  after  him,  of  course.  Once  he  stopped 
at  the  curb,  and  made  as  if  he  'd  signal  a  cab,  but 
he  shook  his  head  and  went  on  again.  He  halted 
over  on  the  Place  in  front  of  the  Printemps,  and 
stood  behind  the  little  newspaper  kiosk  as  if  he 
couldn't  quite  make  up  his  mind  what  to  do. 
Then,  quite  suddenly,  he  dashed  out  into  the  street 
and  jumped  upon  the  platform  of  a  Gare  Mont- 
parnasse  omnibus  that  was  passing.  I  followed  in 
a  cab,  keeping  close  so  that  he  should  n't  escape  me 
— he  rode  inside. 

"  He  went  the  whole  distance  to  the  Gare  Mont- 
parnasse,  and  when  the  'bus  stopped,  swung  off  and 
slipped  up  the  little  rue  de  1'Arrivee  to  the  Avenue 
du  Maine,  I  ambling  along,  still  in  my  fiacre.  He 
bolted  into  the  impasse  du  Maine,  like  a  coursed 
hare,  while  I  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 


224    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

avenue  staring  into  a  charbonnier's  window  at  a 
thrilling  display  of  coals  and  kindling  chips.  I  saw 
him  go  in  the  whole  length  of  the  impasse,  and  dis 
appear  under  the  arch  at  the  inner  end,  number 
18  bis,  it  is,  and  by  the  Saints,  I  could  have 
howled  aloud  for  sheer  joy !  Man,  I  know  every 
inch  of  18  bis  impasse  du  Maine,  I  know  it  light 
or  dark,  drunk  or  sober — but  chiefly  drunk.  A 
very  good  pal  of  mine  used  to  live  there,  and 
many 's  the  night  I  bunked  on  his  divan  when  I — 
well,  when  trying  to  get  home  would  have  been — 
indiscreet — '  in  a  manner  o'  speakin','  MacKenzie. 

"  I  loafed  about  for  five  minutes  and  then  went 
into  the  impasse  to  number  18  bis,  and  knocked  at 
the  concierge's  loge.  I  trembled  in  my  boots,  by  the 
same  token,  for  it  was  six  to  half  a  dozen  that  the 
old  lady  would  remember  me.  If  she  did  I  knew 
't  would  come  to  a  case  of  bribery  and  corruption, 
but  thank  God  she 's  blind  as  a  bat  in  daytime,  and 
had  never,  to  her  knowledge,  set  eyes  on  me  before. 

"  I  called  up  an  atrocious  bad  accent — 't  would 
have  brought  the  tears  to  your  eyes  with  laughing — 
mixed  in  a  great  deal  of  English,  waved  my  arms 
and  talked  very  loud — to  make  her  understand  the 
better — in  fact  played  the  lately  arrived  nouveau  as 
best  I  could,  and  demanded  if  she  'd  any  vacant 
studios.  I  told  her  that  my  friend  Cheltenham  had 
said,  in  London,  that  he  had  lived  there  and  liked 
the  place.  Cheltenham,  the  Honourable  Dicky,  was 
the  pal  who  really  had  lived  there.  She  nearly 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    225 

wept  at  Cheltenham's  name,  the  good  old  soul 
had  worshipped  Dicky.  She  said  that  his  suite  was 
occupied  at  the  moment  by  some  pigs  of  Prussians, 
four  messieurs  and  one  grande  dame. — *  Aha,'  said  I 
to  myself,  *  is  it,  though  ?  We  're  growing  warm ! ' 
— But  if  I  would  like  to  see  the  rooms  she  'd  take 
me  up.  The  Prussians,  she  thought,  weren't  to 
be  there  long. 

"  So  we  went  up  after  she  'd  whistled  out  Chel 
tenham's  old  cat  Giovanni,  and  showed  him  to  me. 
Jove,  that  was  an  embarrassing  minute,  for  Giovanni 
knew  me  at  once,  and  treated  me  like  brother. 

"  And  now,  before  I  go  on,  let  me  show  you  with 
a  bit  of  paper  just  how  the  court  and  the  rooms  are 
arranged.  You  '11  have  to  know  your  way  about, 
later.  As  I  've  said,  the  place  is  at  the  inner  end  of 
the  impasse.  The  impasse  runs  right  into  it. 
There 's  a  square,  stone-paved  court  that  you  enter 
through  an  archway.  The  loge  of  the  concierge  is 
under  this  arch  at  the  right.  Now  the  house  rises 
on  all  three  sides  of  the  court — the  arch  fills  the 
fourth  side.  At  the  right,  on  the  ground  floor, 
there 's  a  sort  of  machine  atelier,  a  shop  of  metal 
workers,  closed,  of  course,  at  night.  To  reach  the 
suite  where  Cheltenham  used  to  live,  and  where 
the  Princess  is  being  held  now,  you  go  in  back  of 
this  shop  under  another  arch,  a  small  one,  and  up 
one  winding  stair.  But  the  rooms  don't  open  over 
the  court,  they  open  over  a  little  unpaved  alley 
on  the  other  side.  The  space  directly  over  the  ma- 

»5 


226    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

chine  shop  is  filled  by  an  architect's  studio,  un- 
tenanted.  On  the  little  alley  there 's  nothing  but  a 
row  of  shed-like  sculptors'  studios  one  story  high. 
No  one  has  ever  occupied  them  since  I  can  remem 
ber.  Now  the  suite  itself,  consists  of  a  fair-sized 
studio,  square,  with  a  big  side  light,  and  a  very  nar 
row  little  passage,  running  from  it  out  to  the  door 
of  the  suite,  upon  which  open  a  sleeping-room  and 
a  kitchen  with  a  tiled  cooking-stove  built  into  the 
wall.  But  since  I  knew  the  place,  another  room  has 
been  added,  beyond  the  studio.  This  room  used  to 
be  another  studio  separated  from  the  first  by  only  a 
partition  of  boards,  one  thickness.  You  could  hear 
perfectly  anything  that  was  said  in  the  other  room. 
It  is  in  this  last  room,  recently  added  to  the  suite, 
that  the  Princess  is  quartered. 

"  Now  are  you  quite  sure  that  you  see  how  the 
place  lies  ?  You  '11  observe  there 's  nothing  next  it 
or  under  it  that  is  tenanted.  It 's  quite  isolated. 
No  noise  less  than  a  pistol  shot  could  reach  any 
neighbouring  ears,  and  that 's  a  point  for  us,  I  would 
have  you  know.  Mind  you,  once  more,  as  you  go 
in  the  outer  door  you  've  a  long  narrow  passage  be 
fore  you,  the  kitchen  and  bedroom  opening  in  turn 
at  its  left  and  the  big  studio  right  ahead.  Then 
that 's  clear ! 

"  Well,  we  went  up,  the  old  concierge  and  I,  and 
pounded  at  the  door.  Some  one  inside  gave  a  surly 
growl  and  a  German  curse,  a  most  impolite  curse,  I 
protest,  and  finally  opened  the  door  an  inch  to  see 


what  was  wanted.  He  was  n't  going  to  let  us  in 
at  all.  Yery  short  about  it,  he  was.  But  the  con 
cierge  gave  him  a  bit  of  her  tongue,  told  him  that  I 
was  an  Anglais,  a  friend  of  her  old  tenant,  who 
wanted  to  take  the  suite,  and  that  she  was  coming 
in  whether  he  liked  it  or  not. 

"  So  finally  we  got  in,  and  I  roamed  about  the 
place  with  my  mouth  open,  doing  a  great  deal  more 
of  my  loud  talking  in  mixed  English  and  dreadful 
French,  regular  British  tourist  sort  of  thing,  asking 
about  the  light  and  the  ventilation  and  the  price 
and  such  rot,  and  incidentally  taking  in  all  I  could 
of  the  defensive  preparations  that  the  rogues  had 
made. 

"  Our  friend  Steinbrucke  was  there,  glowering  in 
a  corner  and  chewing  at  his  nails  like  a  villain  in 
a  play.  Man,  he  was  in  an  awful  state  of  mind  1 
though  that's  not  surprising.  There  were  two 
other  men  in  sight,  one  of  them  the  chap  who  had 
let  us  in,  a  German  apparently,  and  the  other  I 
should  fancy,  a  Novodnian. 

"  I  caught  sight  of  the  small  door  in  the  wall  that 
opens  upon  the  new  room  and  asked  what  that  led 
into,  but  von  Steinbrucke  was  on  his  feet  in  an  in 
stant,  with  his  back  against  it,  and  said  an  invalid 
was  inside.  He  tried  to  be  off-hand  and  polite  about 
it,  but  it  strained  him,  poor  chap.  He  'd  had  a  bad 
afternoon. 

"The  concierge  spoke  up  and  told  me  that 
Monsieur's  sister  was  inside  and  that  we  must  n't 


228    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

disturb  her,  that  the  room  was  merely  another 
sleeping-room. 

u  Just  then  I  heard  a  man's  voice  from  behind  the 
door  in  a  husky  sort  of  whisper  and  then — and  then 
— hers,  by  heaven,  answering  him !  It  sounded  a 
little  weak,  and  very  weary,  but  not  ill,  not  ill,  man, 
strong  and  calm  as  ever !  Faith,  I  had  to  grip  my 
hands  to  stand  where  I  was  and  look  uninterested ! 

"  Then  I  set  about  to  let  her  know  I  was  there, 
stood  near  the  partition  wall  talking  in  a  loud  voice 
to  the  concierge  and  whistled  as  I  walked  about  the 
room,  a  certain  little  air  that — that  the  Princess 
would  recognise,  a  song  of  Kichard  Lovelace's.  She 
knew,  then,  she  knew,  for  I  heard  a  sudden  little 
amazed  glad  cry  that  she  smothered  almost  before 
it  was  out  of  her  mouth. 

"  Steinbriicke  gave  me  a  suspicious  look,  but  I 
stared  in  his  face  and  asked  him,  still  in  bad 
French,  how  he  liked  the  rooms  and  if  he  could 
recommend  them  to  me. 

"  Then,  after  a  time,  I  came  away,  but  I  said  to 
the  concierge  before  we  'd  left  the  room  that  I  'd 
be  back  again — loudly  so  that  the  Princess  could 
hear. 

"  *  Je  reviendrai,  Madame,'  said  I.  '  Je  reviendrai,' 
and  I  think  she  understood. 

"  That 's  all !  I  came  straight  avray  here  to  tell 
you.  To-night  we  must  make  our  dash.  I  've  sent 
a  pistol  to  the  Princess  by  Colette,  so  that  she  '11 
know  we  are  coming,  and  will  be  able  to  defend 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    229 

herself  if  they  block  us  in  the  passage  and  try  to  do 
any  harm  to  her." 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  sprang  from  his  chair  where 
he  had  been  excitedly  nodding  his  head  and  tug 
ging  at  his  grizzled  moustache.  He  seized  Denis's 
two  hands  and  shook  them  up  and  down. 

"  Lad,  lad  ! "  he  cried,  "  why  have  n't  we  played 
together  before  ?  Why  must  I  have  grown  grey 
before  I  met  you  ?  By  my  faith  in  God,  you  're 
the  coolest  hand  I  've  ever  seen  and  the  cleverest 

head.  We  '11  get  her  back  now — thanks  to  you 

Oh,  lad,  I'm  proud  to  know  you!"  And  old 
MacKenzie  beamed  over  von  Altdorf's  shoulder, 
and  I  seized  Denis  from  behind  with  a  great  hug  of 
delight,  while  the  Prince  of  Novodnia  cheered  in  a 
husky  voice  from  the  divan. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WE  dined,  all  together,  at  a  little  restaurant 
near  by,  and  then  came  back  to  the  studio 
and  spent  the  long  evening  in  making  our 
plans  for  what  was  to  be  done  in  the  small  hours  of 
that  night.  "We  settled  the  slightest  details  of  the 
attack,  allowed  for  every  possible  contingency,  and 
held  a  most  spirited  dress  rehearsal  in  which  Prince 
Karl  enacted  the  part  of  the  Princess  Eleanor  and 
I  that  of  von  Steinbriicke — somewhat  to  the  detri 
ment  of  my  breath  and  personal  appearance,  for 
Denis  made  an  uncomfortably  pressing  leader  of 
the  charge. 

Then  when  we  had  done  laughing  over  this, 
Denis  and  von  Altdorf  gave  us  an  exhibition  with 
the  foils,  just  to  get  their  hands  in,  as  Denis  put  it, 
till  von  Altdorf,  hopelessly  outclassed,  threw  down 
his  sword,  declaring  that  Denis  was  the  devil  and 
no  man  at  all,  which  was  more  or  less  true  when 
Denis  had  a  yard  of  steel  in  his  hand. 

And  Denis,  intent  still  upon  "getting  his  hand 
in "  strung  an  apple  to  the  overhead  lamp  and  cut 
thin  slices  from  it  with  a  German  schlager  filched 
from  its  decorative  position  on  the  wall,  shaved  it 
with  a  blade  so  swift  as  to  seem  a  wheel  of  light  till 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    231 

nothing  but  the  core  was  left,  and  von  Altdorf  who 
rather  fancied  himself  at  the  sabres,  sighed  and 
shook  his  head  in  despair. 

Thus  we  whiled  away  the  dragging  time,  and 
strove  to  cover  with  laughter  and  games  the  tense 
keenness  of  anxiety  that  was  in  all  our  hearts,  the 
grimness  of  resolution  and  the  sense  of  deadly  peril 
that  was  nerving  us  to  our  task. 

Old  MacKenzie  clicked  his  watch  and  gave  a 
smothered  growl  of  impatience. 

"  A  quarter  to  twelve,"  said  he.  "  God  in  heaven, 
must  we  wait  forever  ?  Who 's  for  a  hand  at 
piquet  ?  We  've  nearly  two  hours  yet." 

The  Prince,  Denis  and  I  sprang  up  readily 
enough,  for  idle  waiting  at  such  times  strains  the 
nerves  as  nothing  else,  but  von  Altdorf  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
and  a  somewhat  guilty  expression  of  countenance. 

"  Why  I  was  thinking,"  said  he,  in  a  careless  tone, 
"  of — of  just  stepping  over  to  the  house  to — er  see 
that  they  're  all  ready  for  our  return.  I  shall  be 
back  directly  of  course." 

There  was  a  subdued  chuckle  from  MacKenzie 
which,  I  take  shame  in  remembering,  I  echoed. 
Colonel  von  Altdorf  went  red  as  fire. 

"  Oh,  they  're  quite  ready,  man,"  said  MacKenzie, 
brutally.  "  I  've  seen  to  all  that." 

"  Still,  you  know,"  insisted  von  Altdorf,  "  they 
may  have  forgotten  something.  It 's  best  to  be 
sure.  I  really  think  I  'd  better  go."  And  Denis 


232    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

hacked  at  our  shins  under  the  table,  and  said,  "  I 
wish  you  would  go,  old  chap.  One  of  us  ought  to. 
Go  by  the  garden,  it 's  shorter." 

Von  Altdorf  made  for  the  little  rear  window. 

"  I  sha'  n't  be  long,"  said  he  as  he  let  himself  out. 

He  went  up  through  the  cool  scented  gloom  of 
the  garden,  up  under  the  acacias  and  through  the 
old  refectory  porch  into  the  house. 

There  was  a  dim  light  in  the  music-room  and 
some  one  was  playing  very  softly,  with  pauses  of 
silence,  upon  the  piano.  Then,  presently,  the  music 
ceased  and  there  came  to  his  ears  the  sound  of  low 
weeping. 

"  Mademoiselle  ! "  said  Colonel  von  Altdorf  from 
the  doorway.  But  the  girl  sitting  before  the  piano 
did  not  raise  her  head  from  her  arms.  He  went 
diffidently  into  the  room  with  his  heart  playing 
strange  tricks,  thumping  most  curiously.  Women 
in  smiles,  ready  with  quick  speech  and  feminine 
ways,  were  a  sad  puzzle  to  von  Altdorf.  They  lay 
beyond  his  world,  undiscovered  lands.  But  a 
woman  in  tears  lay  further  still,  beyond  wider 
seas,  filled  him  with  an  odd  inarticulate  distress,  a 
longing  to  help  and  comfort,  to  caress  and  defend, 
a  new  longing.  Aye,  but  filled  him  with  a  certain 
terror  too. 

He  stood  over  the  bowed  figure  and  touched  her 
shoulder  awkwardly,  timidly. 

"  Do  n't,  Mademoiselle ! "  said  he.  "  Do  n't,  I— I 
beg.  You — unman  me !  Do  n't  weep,  Mademoiselle. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    233 

"We  '11  bring  the  Princess  back  to  you.  You  need 
have  no  fear — we  '11  bring  her  back." 

"I  do  not — weep  for  the  Princess,"  said  Miss 
Jessica  Mannering  between  her  sobs. 

"  Why,  then,  Mademoiselle  ?  "  asked  Colonel  von 
Altdorf  very  low. 

"  I  weep,"  said  she  between  her  fingers,  "  for  a — 
for  brave  gentlemen  who— go  into  peril  of  their 
lives." 

"  Your  tears,"  said  he  unsteadily,  "  your  tears 
should  nerve  their  hearts  and  strengthen  their  arms. 
I  '11 — I  '11  tell  them,"  added  von  Altdorf,  felicitously. 

The  girl  sprang  suddenly  to  her  feet  and  blazed 
at  him.  Her  aspect  was  really  quite  intimidating, 
despite  an  occasional  sniff  and  a  furtive  dab  with  a 
very  moist  handkerchief.  Colonel  von  Altdorf 
shrank  back  a  step. 

"  You  tell  them  if  you — if  you  dare  ! "  she  cried. 
"  I  '11  never  speak  to  you  again !  Never ! " 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  sighed  and  shook  his  head. 

"Alas,  Mademoiselle,"  said  he,  "I  fear  I  know 
little  of  women.  They  do  such  surprising  things ! " 
he  complained.  "  They  're  so  unexpected  !  I — 
I  thought  you  would  not  mind  my  telling  the  others 
that  you  wept  for  them.  Your  tears,  Mademoiselle, 
are  pearls  that  each  of  us  would  wear  into  danger 
for  a  talisman." 

The  girl  looked  into  Colonel  von  Altdorf's  eyes. 

"  You  say  the  truth,  sir,"  she  cried  softly,  "  when 
you  tell  me  that  you  know  little  of  women 


234    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Ah,  so  very,  very  little  ! — but  I  would  not  have  you 
know  more,  not  now.  I  like  your  knowing  little  of 
them.  You  are  more  the  man  for  it.  Oh,  I  did  not 
weep  for  the  danger  of  the  other  gentlemen,  gal 
lant  though  they  be !  No — no ! "  when  he  would 
have  moved  toward  her  with  a  little  cry,  "  no,  we 
must  not  stand  here  talking  of — of  ourselves — of 
happiness  and — and  such,  while  the  Princess  Eleanor 
is  in  the  hands  of  villains.  That  were  to  be  selfish 
and  more  than  heartless.  You  must  rescue  her 

first,  and  then "  She  caught  her  breath  with  a 

little  sob. 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Miss  Mannering,  "  it  fills  me  with 
trembling,  Colonel,  my  Colonel,  to  let  you  risk  your 
life  as — as  you  must  do." 

She  came  to  him  and  put  her  hands  upon  his  arm 
looking  up  into  his  face. 

"You'll  be  careful?"  she  begged.  "You '11  be 
no  more  rash  than  you  need  ?  You  '11  come  back 
to  me  unhurt,  safe  ?  Ah,  but  I  must  n't  speak  to 
you  so !  I  would  n't  make  your  eye  falter  or  your 
arm  weaken.  I  must  n't  speak  to  you  so,  my  sol 
dier." 

She  would  have  moved  away  from  him,  but 
Colonel  von  Altdorf  took  the  small  hands  that  had 
been  upon  his  arm — making  it  tremble  foolishly — 
and  raised  them  to  his  lips. 

"  Your  soldier,  Mademoiselle  ? "  said  he  in  a 
strange  voice,  "  your  soldier  ?  Oh,  yes,  yes  I  '11 
come  back  to  you!  Do  you  think  anything  can 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    235 

harm  me  now  ?  Your  soldier,  Mademoiselle  ?  Ah, 
your  soldier  ?  " 

She  turned  away  from  him  at  last  and  sat  down 
before  the  piano.  She  was  weeping  again  softly 
but  not  tears  of  grief. 

"I  must  go,  Mademoiselle,"  said  Colonel  von 
Altdorf.  "The  time  is  near  for  starting.  Will 
you,  before  I  go,  sing  to  me  again  ?  "Will  you  sing 

your  old  song  '  Love  in  my  bosom  like  a  bee '  ? 

One  likes  to  go  into  action  with  music." 

She  touched  the  keys,  faltering  a  little,  and  pres 
ently  sang,  her  voice  very  low  and  none  too  steady. 
And  Colonel  von  Altdorf  stood  beside  her  with 
bowed  head. 

Then  when  she  had  finished  he  took  a  long,  deep 
breath  and  pulled  himself  together  with  a  jerk.  He 
was  the  soldier  again. 

"And  so,  good-night,  Mademoiselle,"  said  he 
smiling.  "The  Princess  shall  be  with  you  in  an 
hour,  or  at  the  most,  two,  and  I — I  shall  see  you 
again,  to-morrow.  Good-night !  "  And  he  turned 
quickly  and  left  her  as  if  he  dared  stay  no  longer. 
Whereupon  Miss  Mannering,  being  one  of  those 
strange  creatures,  women,  of  whom  von  Altdorf 
confessed  to  knowing  little,  fell  to  weeping  again 
and  then  to  smiling,  and  held  her  two  hands  to  her 
cheek  as  if  they  were  suddenly  grown  dear  to  her, 
and  again  wept. 

But  Colonel  von  Altdorf  went  down  through  the 
garden  and  climbing  in  by  the  little  window  pro- 


236    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

sented  himself  once  more  in  the  studio  with  a  car 
riage  so  jaunty  and  a  face  so  illumined  that  old 
MacKenzie  chuckled  again.  But  Denis  caught  his 
breath  sharply  and  went  over  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  room  where  he  stood  some  time  with  his  back 
to  us,  making  a  choice  of  the  swords  that  hung 
there. 

I  think  it  was  not  till  this  moment,  not  till  he 
saw  von  Altdorf's  transformed  face,  that  he  real 
ised  what  the  night's  work  meant  to  himself,  that 
rescuing  the  Princess  but  brought  her  back  to 
another  man,  that  she  was  lost  to  him  utterly  and 
forever,  that  once  she  was  safe  again,  he  might  not 
have  even  the  satisfaction  of  working  and  fighting 
for  her.  I  think  that  the  past  week  of  desperate 
planning  and  working  had  quite  driven  his  own 
plight  from  his  mind,  had  directed  his  whole  energy 
to  the  one  fierce  struggle  to  rescue  the  woman  he 
loved,  and  that  it  was  not  till  now  the  thought 
came  to  him,  "  what  of  to-morrow  ?  " 

Still,  if  the  thought  came  to  him  in  that  moment 
with  crushing  force,  he  threw  it  from  him  with  a 
force  as  great.  The  work  was  yet  to  be  done.  He 
turned  about  once  more  quickly. 

"  Make  ready,  gentlemen,"  said  he.  "  You  have 
your  pistols,  but  remember  they  're  for  look  only, 
no  firing.  It 's  steel  to-night.  We  must  have  no 
more  noise  than  is  necessary.  Take  a  sword,  each 
of  you,  a  light  one.  Here  's  my  toy ! " 

He  held  up  a  thin  glistening  blade,  a  wonderful 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    237 

masterpiece  from  Spain.  One  might  bend  it  till 
point  touched  hilt ;  slender  as  a  foil  and  no  heavier, 
weighted  indeed  like  a  foil  at  the  hilt,  properly  to 
balance  its  length. 

"  We  can  carry  the  things  under  our  coats,"  said 
he.  "  Thank  heaven  it 's  a  rainy  night !  If  I  were 
you  I  should  take  sharpened  foils,  rather  than  any 
thing  heavier.  They'll  meet  us  with  sabres,  I 
think,  for  they  'd  a  lot  of  sabres  about  the  room 
to-day.  They  won't  dare  shoot.  You  see  the 
beauty  of  the  foils  is  that  a  man  with  a  foil  has  a 
tremendous  advantage  over  a  sabre.  He's  infi 
nitely  quicker.  Yes,  take  foils  by  all  means.  Have 
you  the  dark  lantern,  von  Altdorf  ?  Keady,  Ted  ? 
Into  your  rain  coats  and  come  along  then  !  " 

But  three  of  us  were  to  go,  von  Altdorf,  Denis 
and  I.  The  Prince,  though  he  at  first  insisted  and 
afterward  begged  piteously,  we  would  not  take,  for 
his  life  must  not  be  risked.  Sir  Gavin  was  no 
swordsman  and  was  moreover  beyond  the  age  for 
fighting. 

In  any  event  we  considered  that  we  three  should 
be  a  match,  in  a  surprise,  for  the  four  we  were  to 
attack.  And  the  quarters,  it  must  be  remembered, 
were  cramped. 

"We  wrung  the  Prince's  and  old  MacKenzie's 
hands.  A  sudden  gravity  came  upon  us  all  at  the 
last,  for  we  knew  that  we  might  not  meet  again. 
Then  the  three  of  us  went  quickly  out  into  the  wet 
night. 


238    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

We  turned,  presently,  from  the  Boulevard  Raspail 
into  the  Boulevard  Edgar  Quinet,  and  walked  down 
its  length  under  the  dripping  trees,  down  past  the 
high  wall  of  the  cemetery  and  so  under  the  railway 
bridge  to  the  Avenue  du  Maine,  and  halted  before 
the  mouth  of  the  impasse.  It  lay  black  and  wet 
and  wholly  deserted.  Indeed  there  was  no  living 
thing  in  sight  anywhere  save  that  across  the  street 
and  down  a  little  way  at  the  foot  of  the  avenue 
stood  a  cab  rank.  The  lamps  threw  a  row  of  dis 
piriting  yellow  gleams  across  the  shining  pavement. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Denis,  "  we  'd  best  bring  a  car 
riage  to  the  head  of  the  impasse  here,  and  have  it 
wait.  It  would  n't  do  to  take  it  clear  in  ?  " 

"  I  say  take  it  right  away  to  the  door,"  said  I. 
"  It  will  sound  as  if  we  were  ordinary  lodgers  com 
ing  home  for  the  night.  Have  the  thing  turn  about 
ready  to  make  a  dash  the  moment  we  're  out  with 
the  Princess.  If  we  're  pursued  we  stand  a  better 
chance  of  getting  well  away." 

"  Eight,  O ! "  cried  Denis.  "  Ted,  you  've  at  times 
a  surprising  head !  Come  along  then,  we  '11  all  get 
into  the  carriage  and  ride  up  to  the  door." 

So  we  went  down  the  street  to  the  miserable 
looking  line  of  vehicles  and  roused  a  cocher  who 
was  sleeping  peacefully  inside  his  galerie. 

"  A  1'impasse  du  Maine ! "  we  cried,  "  tout  au 
fond,  and  wait  there  till  we  come  out ! " 

I  do  n't  mind  confessing,  now  when  it  is  all  over 
and  long  past,  that  my  heart  jumped  a  bit  and  my 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    239 

breathing  quickened  as  we  went  rattling  noisily 
into  that  long  narrow  echoing  cul  de  sac,  pistols  in 
our  pockets,  swords  hidden  under  our  long  rain 
coats,  and  a  dark  lantern  bulging  from  the  vicinity 
of  Colonel  von  Altdorf's  manly  bosom.  It  seemed, 
there  in  the  chill  dripping  rain,  such  an  absurd 
thing  to  be  doing  in  peaceful  Paris  at  this  end  of 
the  nineteenth  century  !  I  could  not  rid  myself  of 
the  notion  that  it  was  all  a  huge  joke,  a  masquerade 
over  which  we  would  have  a  great  laugh  presently. 
The  planning  of  a  desperate  coup,  seated  at  ease 
amongst  lights  and  warmth  and  comfort,  with 
friends  about  one,  keen  minds  to  offer  suggestions, 
cool  heads  to  weigh  risks,  is  such  a  different  thing 
to  carrying  out  that  coup,  silently,  grimly,  in  the 
dead  of  a  cheerless  night,  with  death  grinning  at 
one's  face  through  the  rain. 

The  cab  halted  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  impasse 
and  we  got  out,  gave  our  low  voiced  direction  to 
the  cocher — to  turn  about  and  wait — and  rang  the 
bell. 

Now  the  law  in  Paris  is  so  constructed  that  every 
house,  rich  or  poor,  whether  in  the  Champs  Elysees 
or  the  slums  of  St.  Antoine,  shall  be  under  the 
charge  of  a  concierge  who  shall  close  the  same 
tightly  at  night,  and  admit  the  residents  thereof 
only  upon  the  ringing  of  a  bell.  Furthermore, 
each  lodger  upon  coming  in,  must,  if  the  hour  be 
early,  be  recognised  by  the  concierge,  or  if  it  be 
late  and  the  concierge  in  her  bed,  so  that  at  the 


240    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

summons  she  releases  the  lock  of  the  door  with  the 
"  cordon  "  that  hangs  to  her  hand,  the  lodger  must 
call  out  his  name  as  he  enters  and  closes  the  door. 
The  concierge  system,  it  will  be  understood,  is 
nothing  more  than  a  great  arm  of  the  police,  an 
Espionage,  hour  by  hour  and  day  by  day,  of  every 
resident  in  Paris. 

We  rang  twice  before  the  concierge  waked  and 
pulled  her  cordon.  Then  the  lock  clicked  and  the 
little  door  set  in  the  great  heavy  gate  that  by  night 
closed  the  archway,  swung  open. 

"  Steinbriicke,  Madame ! "  sang  out  Denis  in  a 
bass  gutteral  as  we  closed  the  door,  "  'soir,  Madame ! " 
and  we  tiptoed  softly  over  the  rough  stones  of  the 
courtyard  and  under  the  little  arch  that  leads  to 
the  stair  at  the  right. 

"  Off  with  your  coats  now ! "  whispered  Denis. 
"  Swords  ready  ?  pistols  ? — lantern  lighted,  von  Alt- 
dorf  ?  Here,  wait  an  instant ! " 

Now  the  little  arch,  under  which  we  stood,  gave 
not  only  upon  the  stair,  but  beyond  upon  the  tiny 
alley  alongside  the  old  sculptor's  sheds  and  under 
the  windows  of  Steinbriicke's  studio.  It  was  a 
blind  alley,  closed  by  walls  at  both  ends.  Denis 
stole  out  into  it  and  peered  upward. 

"  Dim  lights  in  all  the  rooms,"  said  he  when  he 
returned,  "  all  but  the  kitchen.  They  're  taking  no 
risks.  Now  then,  up  the  stairs  !  " 

We  left  our  rain  coats  in  a  heap  under  the  arch 
and  mounted  slowly,  with  infinite  caution.  But 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    241 

near  the  top  when  there  was  but  a  step  or  two  to 
gain,  von  Altdorf  stumbled  in  the  dark,  and  the 
closed  lantern  clashed  against  the  stair  rail. 

"We  were  at  the  door  in  an  instant,  but  there 
came  from,  inside  a  quick  movement,  the  sound  of 
hurrying  steps,  and  a  voice,  as  that  of  one  on  watch 
waking  others. 

"Now,  then!"  whispered  Denis,  "the  door! 
Are  you  ready  ?  One,  two, — go ! "  He  had  placed 
himself,  as  we  had  arranged,  a  couple  of  paces  from 
the  door,  back  toward  it,  von  Altdorf,  sword  hang 
ing  from  wrist,  had  braced  his  hands  against  Denis's 
shoulders,  I  mine  against  von  Altdorf's  waist,  and 
with  a  little  run  we  shot  through  the  flimsy  door  as 
though  it  had  been  cardboard. 

Denis  whirled  as  he  fell  forward,  so  that  he  went 
upon  one  knee,  sword  ready  in  his  right  hand,  and 
the  glare  from  von  Altdorfs  lantern  streamed  over 
his  head  and  along  the  narrow  little  passage  till  it 
met  the  white  faces  and  staring  eyes  of  the  pair  of 
ruffians  who  bore  down,  half  dressed  but  wide 
awake,  to  check  us. 

They  had  sabres,  as  Denis  had  predicted,  and  the 
blade  of  the  foremost  flashed  over  his  head  as  he 
charged.  But  when  it  fell  it  rattled  harmlessly 
upon  the  floor  and  its  owner  lurched  face  down 
ward  after  it.  Denis's  thrust  had  been  too  quick  for 
eye  to  follow. 

Then  the  second  man  did  a  curious  thing. 
Blocked  so  that  he  could  not  strike,  by  the  fellow 

16 


242    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

in  front  of  him,  and  now  borne  back  by  Denis's 
lightening  point,  he  made  no  attempt  at  sword-play, 
but  dropped  his  sabre  suddenly,  and  threw  himself 
forward,  headlong,  seeking  to  catch  Denis's  legs 
about  the  ankles  and  so  bring  him  to  the  ground. 

A  man  less  quick  would  instantly  have  been 
floored,  but  Denis  hurdled  him  as  a  football  player 
will  sometimes  hurdle  the  opposing  line  or  the  man 
who  tackles  too  low,  and  was  at  the  studio  door  in 
an  instant. 

"After  me,  one  of  you!"  he  called  over  his 
shoulder.  I  pushed  by  von  Altdorf  who  had  his 
point  against  the  fallen  man's  neck,  and  we  burst 
into  the  wide  space  of  the  studio  together. 

The  room  was  dimly  lighted  from  small  lamps 
hung  upon  the  wall  and  from  a  large  one  overhead, 
which  was  turned  low.  There  was  a  litter  of  clothes 
and  blankets  and  pillows  about  the  floor,  and  the 
air  was  full  of  tobacco  smoke. 

Baron  von  Steinbriicke  stood  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  alone.  He  must  have  been  sleeping,  for 
he  was  clad  only  in  drawers  and  undershirt.  He 
stood  with  his  back  toward  the  door  of  the  further 
room — the  door  was  slightly  ajar — and  he  held  in 
his  hand  no  sabre  like  the  others,  but  a  long  slender 
blade  such  as  our  own.  He  stood  leaning  forward 
a  little,  poised,  waiting.  There  was  a  slight  smile 
upon  his  lips  but  this  passed  in  an  instant,  and  I 
shall  never  forget  his  look  when  he  saw  our  two 
faces  full  in  the  lamps'  light,  and  recognised  us, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    243 

Denis  who  had  stalked  about  the  room  under  his 
very  nose  that  afternoon  asking  questions  in  bad 
French ;  and  myself  to  whom  he  had,  in  his  cups, 
babbled  secrets  that  would  hound  him  to  his  grave 
did  I  but  make  them  known. 

His  sword  point  shook  and  drooped  for  a  breath, 
then  he  was  at  us  with  a  snarl  of  rage.  I  have 
never  seen  a  more  furious  or  more  reckless  whirl 
wind  of  attack. 

"  Give  him  to  me,  lad !  Give  him  to  me  !  "  said 
Denis,  and  I  stood  back  while  they  engaged.  I 
knew  there  could  be  but  one  outcome  to  that 
combat. 

But  their  blades  had  no  more  than  clashed  when 
there  came  the  sound  of  a  scuffle  from  the  room 
beyond.  Alas,  we  had  forgotten  the  fourth  man ! 
And  then  the  Princess  Eleanor's  voice. 

"  Quick,  Denis !  "  she  cried,  "  be  quick  !  "  There 
was  no  fear  in  the  tone,  no  trembling,  but  it  told  a 
desperate  need. 

"Quick!  be  quick!"  she  called  again.  "He's 
trying  to  -  Shall  I  shoot  ?  Shall  I  shoot  ?  " 

Denis  whirled  swiftly  toward  the  door.  I  saw 
him  lunge  again  and  again  quick  as  light,  but  the 
Austrian's  desperate  fury  made  a  defence  that  even 
his  matchless  skill  could  not  break  down  at  once. 
The  man  would  have  to  be  tired  out  by  rapid  attack 
but  there  was  no  time  for  that. 

Denis's  back  was  at  the  door  now. 

"  Now,  then,   Ted ! "  he  cried,   "  take    him  on 


244    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

now!"  and  my  point  reached  Steinbriicke's  left 
arm  just  as  Denis  went  through  into  the  inner 
room. 

What  happened  there  of  course  I  could  not  see. 
It  was  told  me  afterward.  Denis,  it  seems,  was 
but  in  the  nick  of  time,  for  the  fourth  ruffian,  hold 
ing  a  great  pillow  in  his  left  hand  as  a  shield,  was 
sorely  pressing  the  Princess  Eleanor  with  his  sword 
while  she  had  him  covered  with  her  pistol.  Why 
he  hesitated  to  finish  his  work  I  do  not  know.  I 
suppose  he  was  in  deadly  fear  of  the  pistol  and 
equally  in  fear  of  his  master  who  had  commanded 
him  to  kill  the  Princess,  so  that  he  hung  between 
the  two  terrors  hoping  that  our  attack  might  be 
repulsed. 

It  is  possible,  on  the  other  hand,  that  he  was  not 
to  kill  her  till  Steinbrucke  seeing  the  battle  hope 
lessly  against  him,  should  call  the  word.  I  cannot 
tell.  I  know  only  that  at  Denis's  entrance  he 
whisked  about  to  face  him,  and  an  instant  later 
dropped  to  the  floor  with  a  clean  thrust  through 
his  right  shoulder. 

Meanwhile  I  was  as  busy  as  any  man  may  be, 
with  the  Austrian.  Now  I  am  no  Denis  Mallory, 
though  I  take  some  small  pride  in  my  swordsman 
ship,  and  I  confess  freely  that  had  I  been  the  first 
to  engage  Baron  von  SteinbrUcke  I  should,  without 
doubt,  have  been  overcome,  but  Denis  had  taken 
the  first  fire  and  fury  out  of  him.  That  wonderful 
storm  of  attack  had  tired  him  a  little,  so  that  by 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    245 

now  he  was  breathing  a  bit  hard,  and  we  were 
evenly  matched.  Then,  too,  I  had  wounded  him 
slightly  in  the  left  arm  before  his  attention  was 
wholly  diverted  to  me  from  Mallory.  The  pain  of 
this  may  have  affected  him.  Without  doubt  his 
anxiety  as  to  what  was  going  on  in  the  further 
room  lessened  his  keenness.  So  we  fought  evenly, 
doggedly,  he  with  a  bitter  desperation,  I  deter 
mined  that  he  should  not  leave  my  point  till  the 
Princess  was  safe. 

I  remember  that  I  heard  muffled  cries  and  oaths 
behind  me,  from  the  passage,  a  little  crash  and  the 
scuffle  of  feet.  I  remember  wondering  dully  what 
von  Altdorf  could  be  doing  out  there,  and  wonder 
ing  still  more,  when,  from  the  corner  of  my  eye,  I 
saw  him  pressing  one  of  the  men  whom  I  had  sup 
posed  done  for,  before  his  point  into  the  light  of  the 
big  room,  and  there  engaging  him.  But  I  had  no 
time  for  anything  but  my  own  fight.  Indeed  at  one 
moment  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  myself  was  done  for. 

What  had  happened  out  in  the  passage  was  some 
thing  like  this. 

The  first  rascal,  whom  Denis  had  spitted  before 
he  could  bring  down  his  heavy  sabre,  was  not  dead, 
but  merely  run  through  the  shoulder.  Indeed,  to 
kill  any  of  the  men,  was  far  from  our  intention.  A 
dead  man  meant  subsequently  the  police,  and  an  in 
vestigation  that  might  prove  awkward  for  us.  We 
wished  merely  to  disable  them  so  that  we  could 
make  good  our  retreat  with  the  Princess  Eleanor. 


246    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

But  the  fellow,  when  he  had  lurched  to  the  floor, 
lay  there  so  silent  and  so  still,  that  von  Altdorf 
supposed  him  unconscious — as  indeed  he  may  have 
been  for  a  moment  or  two — and  so  stood  directly 
over  his  huddled  body  while  pressing  the  point  of 
his  blade  against  the  back  of  the  unhurt  rascal  who 
had  tried  football  playing  with  Denis. 

But  a  dead  cutthroat  is  the  only  safe  one,  as 
Colonel  von  Altdorf  will  heartily  bear  witness,  for, 
even  as  he  stood  wondering  if  he  had  not  best  stab 
the  rogue  before  him  and  have  done  with  him,  there 
came  a  sudden  movement  from  beneath,  and  his  feet 
were  all  at  once  jerked  from  under  him,  so  that 
cumbered  as  he  was,  with  sword  in  one  hand  and 
lantern  in  the  other,  he  fell  sprawling  and  cursing 
upon  the  prostrate  rascal  whose  fate  he  had  been 
meditating. 

He  told  us  afterward,  disgustedly  enough  amidst 
our  heartless  roars  of  laughter,  that  for  quite  a 
minute  the  three  of  them  panted  and  squirmed  and 
struggled  in  a  ludicrous  heap  there  in  the  dark,  nar 
row  little  passage.  He  had  one  small  advantage, 
which  I  doubt  not  he  pressed.  The  two  others 
knew  not,  in  the  gloom,  whether  they  were  striking 
friend  or  foe  and  so  were  chary  of  their  blows. 
Von  Altdorf  on  the  other  hand — so  he  says — struck 
most  heartily  at  anything  that  came  to  his  hand. 

Presently,  however,  the  unhurt  one  of  the  two 
slipped  away  from  under  von  Altdorf,  and  groping 
upon  the  floor  found  his  sabre,  with  which  he  dealt 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    247 

at  random  a  frightful  slash,  and  at  once  the  arms 
that  clung  desperately  to  von  Altdorf's  ankles 
dropped  limp  and  helpless,  and  he,  springing  up, 
drove  the  other  before  him  into  the  light  of  the 
studio. 

By  this  time,  Baron  von  Steinbrticke's  breath  was 
coming  very  fast  and  hard,  and  his  high  white  fore, 
head  shone  wet  in  the  cross  light  of  the  lamps.  He 
was  no  longer  young  and  he  had  not  lived  the  sort 
of  life  that  preserves  a  swordman's  vigour  and  en 
durance.  I  myself  was  fresh  and  strong,  just  be 
ginning,  indeed,  to  warm  to  my  work,  and  I  knew 
that,  saving  accidents,  I  had  him  in  my  power.  In 
a  little  while  now  he  must  be  so  fatigued  that  I 
could  do  with  him  as  I  liked. 

Then  Denis  entered  again  from  the  further  room. 
He  held  his  sword  en  garde,  not  knowing  what  he 
might  meet,  but  his  left  arm  encircled  the  Princess 
Eleanor's  waist,  holding  her  a  little  behind  him. 
She,  poor  lady,  now  that  the  danger  was  past, 
swayed  upon  her  feet  and  trembled  near  the  edge 
of  collapse.  The  long  night  of  waiting,  pistol  in 
hand,  of  listening  for  our  attack,  and  then  her 
moment  of  deadly  peril  from  the  fourth  ruffian's 
sword,  must  all  have  been  a  frightful  strain  to  her 
already  overwrought  nerves. 

Baron  von  Steinbriicke,  when  he  saw  Denis  with 
the  Princess  upon  his  arm,  made  a  furious  attempt 
to  break  away  from  me  and  attack  him,  but  I 
pressed  him  back,  quickening  my  play,  and  touched 


248    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

him  again  lightly  near  his  first  wound.  That 
brought  back  his  defence  though  it  wrung  from 
him  a  snarling  curse  that  was  a  foolish  waste  of 
sadly  needed  breath. 

"  Off  with  you,  Denis ! "  I  cried.  "  Do  n't  wait 
for  us,  take  her  to  the  carriage  at  once  and  drive 
like  the  devil !  "We  '11  follow  on  foot.  We  're  both 
safe.  Off  with  you!" 

"  Off  with  you,  lad ! "  came  from  the  further 
corner  where  von  Altdorf  slashed  merrily  away — 
for  the  pure  fun  of  it,  I  'm  certain.  He  could  have 

done  for  his  man  long  since "  Off  with  you, 

we  're  all  right.  God's  love,  why  do  n't  you  go  ?  " 

So  Denis,  with  a  lingering,  unwilling  glance  over 
his  shoulder — I  knew  he  hungered  for  more  fight 
ing — bore  the  Princess  away,  and  left  the  two  of  us 
to  our  work. 

Von  Altdorf  finished  his  almost  at  once.  I  heard 
his  opponent's  sabre  crash  to  the  floor  and  the  man 
himself  drop  slowly,  first  to  his  knees,  and  then, 
gasping  hard,  go  flat  upon  his  face  and  lie  still. 
Then  von  Altdorf  went  out  into  the  passage  to 
make  sure  of  the  wounded  rascal  who  had  pulled 
him  down,  but  this  man  had  fainted  again  and  was 
harmless.  So  that  Baron  von  Steinbriicke  alone 
remained  to  be  dealt  with,  and  von  Steinbrucke's 
strength  was  going  fast. 

Von  Altdorf  who  stood  near,  watching,  was  just 
crying,  "  Oh  finish  it,  lad  !  finish  it !  This  is  no  salle 
d'armes ! "  when  the  Austrian,  in  lunging  wildly, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    249 

caught  his  foot  in  one  of  the  garments,  with  which, 
as  I  have  said,  the  floor  of  the  place  was  littered,  so 
that  his  impetus  carrying  his  body  forward,  threw 
him  upon  his  knee  and  his  left  hand  which  he  put 
out  to  save  himself. 

But  my  point,  held  ready  to  parry  his  thrust,  had 
lain  at  his  breast,  inclined  slightly  upwards,  so  that, 
as  he  fell,  it  entered  into  his  throat  somewhere 
above  the  larynx,  in  the  soft  parts  under  the  chin, 
and  driving  inward  must  have  pierced  his  tongue 
and  so  met  the  bony  roof  of  the  mouth,  where 
having  only  the  force  given  it  by  his  falling  body, 
it  halted. 

I  jerked  quickly  back  and  withdrew  the  blade, 
but  Baron  von  Steinbriicke  lurched  forward  upon 
his  face,  and  rolling  partly  over  lay  still  and 
inert. 

"  By  the  Saints,"  cried  von  Altdorf  in  a  hoarse 
whisper,  "  you  've  done  for  him,  lad !  or  he 's  done 
for  himself !  There 's  an  end  of  von  Steinbriicke. 
He 's  dead  as  a  dog  !  Ah,  well,  it  can't  be  helped. 
Now  what 's  to  do  ?  We  can't  leave  all  these  swine 
lying  about  untended.  They  '11  all  die." 

"  Bring  one  of  'em  to  his  senses ! "  said  I,  "  and 
let  him  care  for  the  others.  "Who 's  the  least  hurt  ? 
Curse  von  Steinbriicke  anyhow !  The  thing  was  no 
fault  of  mine.  I  meant  to  try  him  and  then 

merely  disable  him  a  bit Ah,  well,  who  's  the 

least  injured  of  them,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"Mine,  I  fancy,"  said  von  Altdorf ;  "I  barely 


250    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

scratched  the  fool  in  his  sword  arm.  Fright  and 
fatigue  did  the  rest.  Fetch  some  water." 

I  brought  a  jug  of  water  from  the  further  room 
— the  rogue  whom  Denis  had  pricked  there,  was 
sitting  up,  by  the  way,  though  very  shaky  and 
white  about  the  chops — and  we  dashed  it  liberally 
in  the  fellow's  face  till  he  gasped  and  shivered  and 
opened  his  eyes,  little  the  worse  for  his  hurt,  but 
much  the  worse  for  his  fright. 

Then,  seeing  that  he  was  well  able  to  care  for  his 
wounded  friends,  we  slipped  quickly  out  of  the 
place,  down  the  stairs  and  through  the  little  outer 
door  which  Denis  had  left  ajar,  and  never  paused 
till  we  were  far  up  the  Boulevard  Edgar  Quinet 
under  the  cheerless  walls  of  the  cemetery. 

Denis,  meanwhile,  had  made  all  possible  speed 
down  through  the  court  and  out  to  the  carriage 
into  which  he  half  lifted  the  Princess,  and  told  the 
cocher  to  drive  to  the  Place  du  Lion  de  Belfort,  for 
he  would  not  risk  driving  straight  home,  in  view  of 
the  possibility  of  further  trouble.  Then  he  sprang 
in  himself  and  closed  the  door. 

The  galerie  rocked  and  leaped  and  jolted  over 
the  uneven  stone  pavement,  and  the  Princess  who 
had  fallen  back  half  fainting  into  a  corner,  was 
thrown  roughly  about  on  her  seat.  Denis  slid  an 
arm  about  her  waist  and  drew  her  close  to  him. 

"  Try,  Madame,"  he  said  in  her  ear,  "  try  to  for 
get  who  I  am.  Try  to  think  that  I  'm — Jessica  or 
— or  any  one  else  but  myself,  for  I  must  make  you 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    251 

comfortable.  I  must  save  your  strength  till  we  are 
safe  at  home." 

He  drew  her  close  into  his  arms  till  her  head 
dropped  weakly  back  upon  his  shoulder.  Her 
brow  touched  his  cheek,  her  hair  was  against  his 
eyes,  and  she  so  rested  upon  him,  that  bracing  his 
body  against  the  plunges  of  the  carriage,  he 
brought  her  to  the  end  as  if  she  had  lain  upon  a 
pillow. 

At  the  Place  du  Lion  they  left  the  voiture  and 
waited,  while  it  drove  off  rumbling  down  the 
Boulevard  Raspail,  before  they  turned  into  the  rue 
Denfert  Rochereau. 

They  had  but  a  little  way  to  go,  but  this  little 
way  Denis  was  forced  almost  to  carry  the  Princess 
who  hung  upon  the  verge  of  faintness.  And  he 
confessed  to  me,  long  afterward,  that  he  was  as 
nearly  fagged  out  as  a  man  may  be,  when  they 
stood  at  last  before  the  door  of  the  old  convent  and 
the  door  opened  upon  eager  waiting  faces,  warmth 
and  safety,  MacKenzie  towering  anxiously  over  the 
heads  of  the  servants,  the  Prince  half  mad  with 
fear  and  the  long  waiting. 

But  Denis,  holding  the  Princess  upon  her  feet  by 
main  strength,  raised  a  white  face  toward  them, 
calling,  "  Jessica,  Jessica ! "  and  Miss  Mannering 
pushed  through  the  group  with  a  cry  of  joy  and 
held  out  her  arms  to  him. 

Then  the  Princess  roused  herself  for  an  instant 
and  turned  from  Denis  to  her  cousin.  She  took  a 


252    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

little  faltering,  uncertain  step  as  if  with  the  very 
last  of  her  strength. 

"  Jess,  Jess  !  "  she  cried  weakly.     "  Oh,  Jess,  Jess ! 

I  'm  so  tired !  so "  and  she  fell  forward  with  a 

sob  into  the  outstretched  arms  and  laid  her  head  in 
the  hollow  of  Miss  Mannering's  neck  and  fainted 
quite  away. 


CHAPTER  XX 

"  "^T  7"ES,  it's  a  pity  you  had  to  kill  him,"  said 

|f     Denis  as  we  sat  the  next  day  talking  over 

A    the  night's  work.     "  I  mean  it 's  a  pity  the 

beast  had  to  kill  himself,  for  that  seems  to  have  been 

the  way  of  it.     It  may  stir  up  an  awkward  row  with 

the  police.    A  dead  man 's  a  serious  matter  in  these 

times.    I  suppose  there's  no  doubt  that  he  was 

quite  finished,  eh  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  man  was  dead,  right  enough,"  said  I 
disgustedly.  "  Lord  bless  you,  the  blade  went  into 
his  gullet  a  matter  of  four  inches  or  so !  I  was  just 
about  to  disable  him  neatly  too.  Hard  luck  I  call 
it!" 

"It's  the  end  of  a  blackleg  and  scoundrel," 
broke  in  von  Altdorf .  "  There 's  a  list  of  people  in 
high  places,  lad,  a  list  as  long  as  your  arm  who  '11 
breathe  a  sigh  of  relief  when  they  hear  the  news — 
if  ever  they  do  hear  it." 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  Denis,  "  the  man 's  dead,  and 
it 's  poor  business  abusing  him  now.  Death  wipes 
things  out,  rather,  does  n't  it  ?  One  feels  a  bit  low 
railing  at  a  dead  man  for  sins  that  he  can't  sin 
again.  Still,"  he  added  regretfully,  "since  the 
rascal  had  to  die  I  'd  like  to  have  been  the  one  to 
finish  him.  I  should  have  felt  a  glow  of  conscious 


254    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

virtue  so  long  as  I  lived.  I  should  have  felt  that 
I  'd  done  one  good  act — amongst  a  sad  heap  o'  bad 
ones.  Has  any  one  heard  of  the  Princess  since 
morning?  Sir  Gavin  said  then  she  was  doing 
famously." 

"  She 's  fit  as  can  be,"  said  I.  "  What  she  went 
through  seems  to  have  harmed  her  little.  She  '11 
keep  to  her  bed  for  a  day  or  two  for  prudence's 
sake,  and  then  be  about  again." 

Denis  sighed  and  his  eyes  took  on  their  old  look 
of  pain  and  hopelessness.  He  rose  from  his  chair 
and  went  over  to  the  window  where  he  stood 
tapping  absently  upon  the  glass  and  staring  out  over 
the  garden. 

MacKenzie  and  the  Prince  came  in  together  hav 
ing  walked  around  by  way  of  the  Boulevard  from 
the  house.  The  Prince  handed  a  dispatch  to  Colonel 
von  Altdorf . 

"  This  just  arrived,"  said  he.  "  I  suppose  it 's  from 
Novodni,  via  Vienna."  Then  he  went  over  to  the 
window  to  join  Denis  and  overwhelm  that  young 
man  anew  with  repetitions  of  his  never  to  be  settled 
obligation  to  him.  Indeed  the  Prince's  gratitude 
to  Denis  as  the  leader  in  the  rescue  of  the  Princess 
Eleanor,  was  most  affecting  to  see,  and  his  demon 
strative  southern  volubility  was  a  source  of  painful 
embarrassment  to  the  young  Irishman. 

"Aye,  it's  from  Novodni,"  said  von  Altdorf,  un 
folding  the  sheets,  "  and  a  long  one  too.  I  must 
tell  Czerowitz  that  we  're  all  right  again  and  that 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    255- 

he  need  n't — what  ?  Here  wait,  wait !  "  His  face 
went  suddenly  very  pale  and  he  bent  closer  over 
the  sheets  that  he  was  translating  from  the  cypher. 

His  manner  drew  us  all  to  our  feet  in  a  circle 
about  him,  the  Prince  foremost.  But  when  he  had 
finished  writing  out  in  fair  language  the  strange 
looking  jumble  of  words  upon  the  dispatch  sheets 
he  sat  so  long,  staring  wide  eyed  before  him,  that 
the  Prince  touched  him  upon  the  shoulder  anx 
iously,  impatiently. 

"  Well,  Colonel  ?  "  he  demanded,  "  well,  what  is 
it  ?  What 's  the  matter  ?  " 

Then  Colonel  von  Altdorf  sprang  up  and  faced 
his  master,  the  written  sheets  crushed  in  his  out 
stretched  hand. 

"  It 's  the  tottering  of  your  throne  under  you, 
sir ! "  he  cried  bitterly,  and  his  voice  shook  though 
he  strove  to  hold  it  firm.  "  It 's  what  was  bound  to 
come,  what  I  warned  you  would  come.  Sir,  sir,  if 
you  had  but  stayed  in  Novodni !  George  has  seized 
his  chance,  curse  him,  and  Steinbriicke  won  after 
all,  despite  our  work  last  night,  for  he  held  you 
here  in  Paris,  as  he  knew  he  could,  by  stealing  the 
Princess,  till  George  should  be  strong  enough  to 
make  his  move. — Listen  to  this !  It 's  from 
Czerowitz,  telegraphed  from  Novodni  to  his  man  in 
Yienna,  and  thence  to  me  here. 

" '  Georgias  reported  moving  toward  Novodni. 
Makarin  already  taken,  used  as  base  of  supplies. 
Great  excitement  in  Novodni,  Ministry  resigned 


256    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

this  morning.  Premier  alone  faithful  to  Prince 
Karl.  Populace  divided  in  sentiment,  but 
Pavelovitch  element  grows  in  numbers.  Prince 
loudly  denounced  for  prolonged  absence.  Life 
guards  faithful  but  army  uncertain.  Rioting  in 
streets.  Marshal  Sbolin  shot  at  while  driving  from 
Palace.' 

"  There 's  the  country  that  your  father  bequeathed 
you,  sir,  and  this  is  what  you  have  made  it !  Aye, 
you,  sir !  I  've  served  you  faithfully,  Prince  Karl, 
and  I  shall  serve  you  till  you  or  I  die,  but  I  '11  tell 
you  the  truth,  by  Heaven.  You  have  brought  this 
upon  Novodnia  and  you'll  answer  for  it  at  God's 
throne.  Had  you  stayed  where  your  duty  lay, 
Georgias  would  be  hiding  in  the  mountains  now, 
not  marching  toward  Novodni. — Great  God, 
can  nothing  rouse  you?  nothing?"  And  von 
Altdorf s  voice  broke  so  that  he  was  forced  to 
pause.  He  was  terribly  excited,  and  his  hands 
shook  as  he  stretched  them  appealingly  toward  the 
Prince. 

"  Listen,  sir ! "  he  cried  after  a  moment,  "  there 's 
just  a  chance,  a  desperate  chance  that  you  may  save 
your  country  if  you  leave  at  once  for  Novodni,  and 
travel  night  and  day  till  you  are  there.  Your  mere 
presence  would  be  better  than  an  army.  I  will 
telegraph  at  once  that  you're  on  your  way,  that 
the  Prince  is  returning  to  punish  presumptuous 
rebels  and  to  save  his  land  from  war  and  loot.  You 
must  start  to-night,  sir.  You  can  be  there  in  three 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    257 

days.  Meanwhile  the  news  that  you  are  coming 
may  hold  the  situation  as  it  is." 

The  Prince  was  very  pale.  He  seemed  dazed, 
bewildered,  as  if  he  had  never  dreamed  of  this 
possibility,  as  if  the  calamity  had  fallen  upon  him 
from  a  clear  sky. 

"  But— but,  Colonel,"  he  faltered,  "  but,  Colonel, 
the — Princess.  I  must — why  I  must  see  her  first. 
We  have  n't  come  as  yet  to  any  understanding !  I 
must " 

"  Aye,  the  Princess ! "  cried  Colonel  von  Altdorf 
bitterly.  "  Always  the  Princess  and  never  the  trust 
God  has  given  you !  Are  you  a  prince,  sir,  or  a 
lover  of  women  ?  Tell  me  that !  By  my  faith,  I 
do  not  recognise  your  father  in  you  !  Duty,  honour, 
faith,  bravery !  Those  were  his  watchwords — God 
rest  his  noble  soul! — He  thought  first  of  all  of 
his  country  and  his  people.  He  thought  last  and 
least — if  at  all — of  himself.  Many  a  night,  sir, 
I  've  seen  him  go  from  his  chamber  to  the  Palace 
chapel  and  kneel  there  the  night  long,  praying  for 
guidance  in  some  difficult  matter  of  state.  Aye, 
I  've  waited  and  watched  outside  the  chapel  doors 
while  he  prayed,  guarding  him  from  harm.  No 
mobs  rioted  in  the  streets,  then,  Prince  Karl,  no 
Russian  boot-lickers  marched  upon  Kovodni  with 
the  connivance  of  the  very  ministry  and  half  the 
populace.  The  ruler  of  Novodnia  sat  on  his  throne, 
he  made  no  love  quests  to  the  other  end  of 
Europe! — Ah  well,  sir" — his  voice  was  break- 

17 


258    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

ing  again — "  Ah  well,  Novodnia's  days  of  honour  and 
independence  are  over.  She'll  be  a  Russian  pas 
ture  soon,  a  stable-yard,  for  sale,  very  likely,  to  the 
highest  bidder. — Sir,  I  beg  leave  to  tender  my 
resignation  from  your  service.  I  have  a  small  pos 
session  called  my  honour  which  I  hold  indifferent, 
dear."  He  turned  away  from  us  all,  his  white  face 
drawn  and  working,  and  sat  down  once  more  at  the 
table  dropping  his  head  into  his  arms. 

But  Prince  Karl  went  over  to  him  at  once  and 
laid  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Nay,  nay,  Colonel,"  said  he  in  a  low,  gentle 
voice.  "  I  won't  accept  your  resignation."  There 
was  a  certain  pathetic  dignity  about  the  man,  a 
certain  humility  which  he  wore  with  a  sad  pride. 

"  I  will  go  to  Novodni  at  once,  old  friend,"  he 
went  on,  stroking  and  patting  the  bowed  shoulder 
as  a  woman  might  have  done.  "  I  will  go  to-night 
and  make  all  possible  speed.  And  when  I  am 
there — why  we  '11  punish  presumptions  rebels,  as 
you  say,  Colonel,  and  we  '11  save  our  land  from  war 
and  loot,  for  I  think  it  may  still  be  done. — I  am  not 
the  man  my  father  was — would  God  I  were  ! — and 
you  've  spoken  no  more  than  the  truth.  I  've  been 
a  poor  ruler,  Colonel,  a  weak  prince — I  was  never 
born  to  rule — but  what  I  can  do,  I  will  do.  I  shall 
save  Novodnia  or  die  fighting  for  her — more  than 
that  no  man  can  promise.  Come,  old  friend,  your 
hand !  Let  there  be  no  talk  of  resignations  till 
Georgias  is  dead  or  back  in  his  hills  with  a  price 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    259 

upon  his  head,  and  the  white  bear  has  turned  North 
once  more. — And  no  man  shall  say  of  me  again 
that  Novodnia  and  her  honour  come  second  in  my 
thoughts." 

He  turned  to  where  old  MacKenzie  sat  smoking 
and  brooding  in  the  corner. 

"  Will  it  be  possible,  Sir  Gavin,"  he  asked,  "  for 
me  to  see  the  Princess  Eleanor  for  ten  minutes  be 
fore  I  leave  this  evening  ?  " 

"  But  sir,  sir !  she 's  in  her  bed  ! "  cried  MacKenzie. 
"  I  've  forbidden  her  to  leave  it  before  the  week's 
end ! " 

"  Still,"  insisted  the  Prince,  "  in  a  case  of  emer 
gency  like  this,  sir  ? — It  would  do  no  actual  harm  ? 
No  ?  Then  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  request  the 
Princess  to  grant  me  a  short  interview  this  after 
noon  ?  Come,  it  is  nearly  four  o'clock,  and  there 
is  much  to  do  before  leaving.  We  will  go  to  the 
house  now,  through  the  garden. — I  shall  return  in 
half  an  hour,  gentlemen." 

He  moved  toward  the  little  window  that  gave 
upon  the  garden  and  old  MacKenzie  followed,  sha 
king  his  head  in  unwillingness,  but  Denis  Mallory 
stopped  them. 

"Just  a — moment,  sir,"  he  begged.  "May  I 
speak  to  you  ?  " 

The  Prince  turned  to  him  with  a  smile  and  laid 
his  two  hands  upon  Mallory's  shoulders. 

"  Ah,  good  friend !  "  said  he,  "  it  cuts  me  deep  to 
leave  you  here  and  to  feel  that  I  sha'  n  't  see  you 


260    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

again.  You  have  given  me  so  much,  and  I — why 
I  've  given  you  nothing  at  all,  save  work  and  pain. 
It  cuts  me  deep  to  leave  you  ! " 

"  Why,  sir,"  cried  Denis,  with  a  little  embarrassed 
laugh,  "  why,  sir,  you  Ve  hit  upon  the  very  point : 
I  do  n't  want  to  be  left." 

"  Yet  I  must  go,"  said  the  Prince.  "  You  would 
not  have  me  stay  ?  " 

"  No,  ah  no,  of  course  not,"  cried  Denis.  "  You 
must  go,  sir,  there 's  no  doubt  of  that,  but — I  hardly 
know  how  to  put  it — you  've  been  talking  about 
how  much  you  owe  me,  and — and  all  that  rot,  you 
know. — Pay  me  out,  sir.  Take  me  with  you  to 
Novodnia !  Let  me  fight  for  you,  down  there." 

I  think  every  one  of  us  held  his  breath  for  sheer 
astonishment.  I  know  I  cried  out,  "  Denis,  Denis  ! 
You  're  mad !  "What  are  you  thinking  of  ?  "  But  he 
would  not  turn  his  head. 

"  Take  you  with  me,  Mr.  Mallory  ? "  said  the 
Prince  in  amazement,  "  take  you  with  me  ?  But — 
but  your  life  here — your  friends — your  ties  ?  Why 
our  quarrel,  la  bas,  is  no  quarrel  of  yours  !  Do  you 
mean  that  you  wish  actually  to  take  service  in  the 
Novodnian  army  ?  Are  you  quite  serious  ?  " 

"  Quite,  sir ! "  declared  Denis  smiling  into  the 
other's  puzzled  eyes.  His  own  eyes  softened  for  a 
moment.  "  Why — why  yes,  sir,  I  've  some  friends 
to  think  of,  have  I  not  ?  Aye,  three  as  good  pals  as 

ever  a  man  boasted And  there 's  a  miracle,  for 

friends  have  n't  just  flocked  about  me  of  late  years. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    261 

They  've  been  scarce,  damned  scarce  1 — Still,  my 
friends  would  n't  say  me  nay  to  going  with  you. 
Would  you,  Teddy  lad  ?  Would  you,  von  Altdorf  ? 
Would  you,  MacKenzie?  No,  they'd  say  I 

could  n't  do  better Fighting 's  my  trade,  sir.  I 

was  bred  to  it  and  I  've  done  little  else — and  that 
little  badly.  I  've  served  under  five  flags  and  I  'd 
like  to  serve  under  the  Novodnian  banner  for  the 
sixth.  They  'd  tell  you  good  of  me,  sir,  should  you 
ask  where  I  might  mention.  They  might  speak  ill 
of  my  living,  but  they  'd  tell  you  good  tales  of  my 
fighting.  Faith,  I  commanded  an  army,  in  the  field 
once !  To  be  sure,"  he  added  with  that  whimsical 
touch  that  never  left  him  in  a  serious  moment,  "  to 
be  sure  it  wasn't  just  a  first-class  army,  and  I  blush 
to  admit  that  it  was  roundly  defeated,  but  it  was 
an  experience  for  all  that.  Nay,  sir,  let  me  go  with 
you,  serve  you,  fight  for  you,  help  to  seat  you  firm 
again  on  your  throne.  I've  nothing  to  hold  me 
here.  Let  me  be  about  a  useful  business.  I've 
served  you  and — and  the — Princess  here,  let  me 
serve  you  and — the  Princess  in  the  field." 

"  You  go  into  the  keenest  danger,  Mr.  Mallory," 
warned  the  Prince,  looking  steadily  upon  him. 
"Our  lives  must  be  held  cheap  when  once  we've 
entered  Novodnia." 

Denis  raised  his  sombre  eyes  and  met  those  of 
Prince  Karl. 

"  I  have  no  love  for  my  life,  sir,"  he  said  quietly. 
And  I  think  the  Prince  understood. 


262    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

He  reached  for  Denis's  hand  and  took  it  between 
his  own  and  wrung  it  warmly. 

"  Then  you  shall  go  1 "  he  cried,  "  and  I  thank 
Heaven  for  it !  I  wish  I  had  more  gentlemen  in 
my  service  in  whom  I  could  place  such  faith  and  to 
whom  I  could  intrust  such  difficulties. — We  leave  at 
midnight,  Mr.  Mallory." 

He  was  turning  away  when  von  Altdorf  spoke. 

"  And  I,  sir  ?  I  go,  of  course  ?  "  He  spoke  a 
bit  anxiously,  for  I  think  he  feared  lest  the  Prince 
might  leave  him  to  guard  the  Princess  Eleanor. 

The  Prince  laid  a  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  gave  a 
little  laugh,  a  sad,  little  wistful  laugh. 

"  Alas,  my  mentor  ! "  said  he.  "  Must  we  come 
to  odds  again  ?  I  go  to  my  post  of  duty  as  you  bid 
me — indeed,  I  needed  not  the  bidding,  once  the 
need  of  me  was  made  evident — but  it  was  in  my 
mind  that  you  should  stay.  Ah,  Colonel,  I  leave 
you  to  guard  what  is  dearer  to — what  is  next 
dearest  to  me  after  the  welfare  of  my  state  and 
people.  I  leave  the  Princess  in  your  care  as  I  might 
leave  her  in  the  care  of  no  other.  Your  trust  is  the 

highest  of  any Still,  I  do  not  command, 

Colonel,  I  do  not  insist.  I  beg.  It  is  my  dearest 
wish  that  you  stay." 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  turned  away  with  a  little  sigh. 

"  As  you  will,  sir ! "  said  he.  "  I  had  hoped  for 
some  fighting,  but  if  I  can  serve  you  better  here, 
I  '11  stay.  So  that  you  go  yourself,  and  as  speedily 
as  possible,  I  have  nothing  more  to  ask." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    263 

MacKenzie  had  meanwhile  gone  on  ahead,  so  that 
when  the  Prince  came  up  through  the  garden,  and 
entered  the  house,  a  servant  was  waiting  to  say 
that  if  his  Highness  would  be  so  good  as  to  make 
himself  comfortable  in  the  music  room,  Madame 
would  be  down  soon. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait  till  his  wife  appeared. 
She  had  clad  herself  in  a  loose  house  gown  that 
hung  about  her  in  long,  straight  folds,  and  a  little 
whim  of  woman's  coquetry  had  led  her  to  fasten  at 
her  bosom  two  or  three  pink  roses  fresh  and  fra 
grant  and  beautiful.  She  looked  tired  about  the 
eyes,  and  she  was  paler  than  her  wont,  but  she 
seemed  not  at  all  ill  or  weak.  She  gave  the  Prince 
her  hand  and  sat  down  near  him  by  a  window. 

"  Sir  Gavin  has  been  telling  me  all  about  it — 
Karl,"  said  she,  "  that  the  country  is  in  the  gravest 
danger,  and  that  you  must  go  there  at  once.  I  un 
derstand,  quite.  You  must  n't  be  away  from  your 
post  of  duty,  must  you  ?  Alas,  you  should  n't  have 
left  it  at  all,  Karl  I " 

The  Prince  threw  out  his  hands  with  a  little  ges 
ture  of  helplessness. 

"There  is  something  stronger  than  duty,  Elea 
nor,"  said  he.  "  No,  I  should  n't  have  come  away. 
It  was  wrong,  selfish,  criminal  if  you  like,  but — 
there's  something  stronger  than  duty.  At  least 
there  has  been  something.  Duty  must  be  first, 
now." 

"  Ah,  I  know,  I  know ! "  cried  the  Princess,  softly. 


264    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  You  came  for  me,  Karl.  I  should  n't  be  the  one 
to  reproach  you,  should  I  ?  And  I  've  brought  you 
nothing  but  trouble  and  grief  and  danger.  I  should 
think  you  'd  hate  me,  Karl,  dread  hearing  my  very 
name.  I  think  I  must  be  something  of  a  witch — 
are  there  witches  now  ?  there  used  to  be  when  I 
was  little — I  seem  to  carry  calamity  with  me.  But 
I  'm  not  quite  like  the  witches,  after  all,  for  the  heav 
iest  of  the  calamity  I  suffer  myself.  It  would  have 
been  a  very  good  thing,  I  think,  if  I  could  have 
died  when  I  was  so  terribly  ill.  Think  what  every 
one  would  have  been  saved." 

"  Oh,  Eleanor,  Eleanor ! "  cried  Prince  Karl, 
"you  wring  my  heart!  You  must  not  talk  so. 
You  're  tired  still,  my  Queen,  despondent.  When 
you  are  quite  strong  and  rested  once  more  you  will 
be  glad  to  live  for  the  very  joy  of  living.  You  are 
too  beautiful  to  be  unhappy." 

The  Princess  gave  a  weary  little  smile. 

"  Is  beauty  then  a  source  of  happiness  ? "  she 

asked.  "  I  had  n't  noticed Ah,  Karl,  all  this 

is  beside  the  question !  The  question  is.  what 's  to 
become  of  us?  What  are  we  to  do?  I've  been 
thinking  of  it  deeply.  I  used  to  sit  and  think  of  it 
— to  keep  myself  from  going  mad,  I  fancy — while 
I  was  in  the  hands  of  those — those  men.  And  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  if  ever  I  was  rescued,  if 
ever  I  got  safely  away,  I  'd  do  as  you  wish  me  to. 
I  shall  come  to  you  when  you  want  me.  No,  wait ! 
Hear  me  out!  You  mustn't  misunderstand  me. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    265 

You  mustn't  think  that  I've  come  to — love  you, 
you  know,  or  anything  like  that.  I  think" — she 
turned  her  head  and  looked  out  through  the  win 
dow  to  the  trees  that  swayed  in  the  warm  breeze 
— "  I  think  that  all  the  love  has  gone  out  of  me  for 
ever.  Perhaps  I'm  wrong.  Perhaps  it  is  only 
paralyzed  for  a  time,  but  I  think  it 's  quite  dead.  I 
seem  not  to  be  able  to  feel  that — that  sort  of  thing 

for  any  one  now Ah,  it  was  a  cruel,  cruel 

trick  they  played  upon  me,  was  n't  it  ?  Well  meant 
though  it  may  have  been. 

"  No,  I  do  n't  love  you,  Karl,  not  in  that  way,  but 
I've  brought  you  so  much  trouble  and  grief  that 
the  least  I  can  do  is  to  give  you  the  rest  of  my  life, 
if  you  want  it.  I  shall  be  a  faithful  wife  to  you 
and — if  it  shall  seem  best,  later,  to  raise  me  to  sit 
beside  you,  I  shall  try  to  be  a  good  princess  and  a 
kind  one.  I  shall  try  to  make  your — our  people 
love  me.  Is  that  enough,  Karl  ?  Do  you  want  me 
on  such  terms?  It  isn't  the  way  a  wife  should 
come  to  her  husband,  is  it,  offering  him  the  re 
mainder  of  a  crippled  life  for  which  she  has  no 
love;  finding  in  herself  none  of  the  thing  that 
makes  life  beautiful,  to  offer  him  ?  But  such  as  I 
am,  such  as  I  can  bring  to  you,  you  may  take  me 
when  you  will.  It  must  n't  be  now,  must  it  ?  We 
must  wait  till  this  danger  is  over,  till  the  country  is 
at  peace  again.  It  would  n't  be  wise,  of  course,  for 
me  to  come  now.  It  would  but  give  your  enemies 
a  fresh  grievance.  No,  you  must  go  alone,  this 


266    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

time,  but  when  you're  ready,  Karl,  send  for  me, 
and  I  '11  come.  You  have  my  promise." 

The  Prince  of  Novodnia  dropped  upon  one  knee 
and  took  his  wife's  hand  in  both  his  and  kissed  it. 
His  own  hands  trembled  a  little  under  hers  and  his 
eyes  were  moist. 

"  You  are  the  noblest  woman  in  the  world,  Elea 
nor,"  said  he,  "  as  you  are  the  most  beautiful.  You 
promise  me  a  life  so  near  to  Heaven  that  I  tremble 
to  think  of  it.  You  do  not  love  me  now  - 


let  us  be  honest,  you  never  really  loved  me,  even 
long  ago  before  —  before  that  dreadful  veil  fell. 
But  I  pray  that  you  may  come  to  love  me  in  the 
future.  It  seems  to  me  that  no  love  so  great  as 
mine  could  fail,  in  time,  to  win  a  love  in  return.  I 
shall  be  an  abler  general,  Eleanor,  a  braver  soldier, 
a  better  ruler  for  what  you've  promised  me  just 
now.  Old  von  Altdorf  shall  have  a  better  word  to 
say  for  me  before  the  next  month  is  over." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  stood  before  her,  heels 
together,  at  attention. 

"  Have  I  your  leave  to  go,  Princess  ?  "  he  asked. 
He  was  holding  his  lips  in  a  thin,  firm  line,  and  he 
frowned  a  little  in  his  effort  to  remain  calm.  It 
tore  him  sadly,  poor  gentleman,  to  leave  her  as  he 
must,  for  what  might  be  the  last  time.  He  knew 
well  enough  the  peril  that  lay  before  him. 

But  the  Princess  Eleanor  bent  her  head  with  a 
little,  kind,  tender  smile  and  watched  him  while  he 
marched  stiffly  out  of  the  room,  turning  at  the 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    267 

door  to  bow  again  and  go  through  it  backward, 
bowing  still,  as  one  leaves  the  presence  of  royalty. 

Then  the  Princess  turned  her  head  upon  the  high 
stuffed  back  of  the  chair,  and  laid  her  cheek  against 
it  with  a  little  moan  of  utter  hopeless  dreariness. 

Her  cousin  Jessica  Mannering  happening  into  the 
room  an  hour  later,  found  her  so,  and  dropped  upon 
her  knees  beside  the  chair  holding  the  Princess's 
hand  against  her  cheek. 

"  He  's  gone,  Eleanor  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  The 
Prince  has  gone." 

"  Yes,  oh  yes,  he 's  gone,"  said  the  Princess.  "  I 
have  promised  to  follow  him  when  he  sends  for  me, 
when  the  troubles  and  fighting  are  over." 

"  Eleanor,  Eleanor !  "  cried  Miss  Mannering,  star 
ing  into  her  cousin's  face.  "  You — you  're  going  to 
him? — to  the  Prince?  After — everything?  Oh, 
Eleanor !— Why,"  she  went  on  presently,  in  a 
shocked,  amazed  voice,  "  why,  it 's  wicked — it's,  it 's 
— almost  immoral !  You  do  n't  love  him.  You  can 
never  love  him  after — what  has — happened.  Oh, 
say,  you  're  not  going,  dear ! " 

"Why,  yes,"  said  the  Princess,  quietly,  "I'm 
going.  Love  him  ?  Oh,  no !  I  shall  never  love 
any  one  again.  You  don't  seem  to  understand. 
That  part  of  me  is  quite  dead.  But  I  shall  make 
him  a  good  and  faithful  wife.  I  shall  make  him 
happy.  What  does  my  happiness  matter  ?  " 

"And  you'll  go,"  said  Miss  Jessica  Mannering, 
slowly.  "  You  '11  go  to  this  simple,  faithful  gentle- 


268    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

man,  as  his  wife,  when  you  love  another  man — 
will  love  him  as  long  as  you  live?  Ah,  surely, 
you  're  not  the  Eleanor  I  've  known  I " 

"  I  do  n't  love  the  other  man ! "  cried  the  Prin 
cess,  in  a  hoarse,  shaking  voice.  "I  don't  love 
him !  I  tell  you  I  hate  him  I  I  can't  think  of  him 
without  a  shudder !  Oh,  Jess,  Jess,  help  me  not  to 
think  of  him,  dream  mad,  sweet  dreams  of  him,  see 
his  face,  night  and  day,  before  me  I  Do  n't  talk  of 
him,  Jess  darling !  Help  me  to  forget  him !  Help 
me  to  hate  him  as  I  must  hate  him,  Jessica.  I  'm 
another  man's  wife ;  I  'm  the  Prince's  wife,  and  I  'm 
going  to  him  soon.  Jess,  help  me  to  hate  the  man 
I — love,  God  forgive  mel  the  man  I  must  love 
till  I — die !  Oh,  Jess,  Jess,  do  you  know  what  love 
is?  It's  the  bitterest  agony  in  all  God's  bitter 
world  I" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

WE  took    our    last   dinner  together  that 
evening  at  Yoisin's  in  the  rue  St.  Honor6. 
It  was  not  a  very  cheerful  meal,  though 
I  think  we  all  did  our  best  to  make  it  so,  forced  a 
gayety  that  we  were  far  from  feeling,  cracked  our 
best  little  jokes  with  a  sorry  grin  that  deceived 
nobody. 

"We  had  one  of  the  small  up-stairs  rooms  to  our 
selves,  and  we  sat  long  over  the  wine,  for  it  was 
not  till  midnight  that  the  two  travellers  must  be 
gone,  and  there  were  hours  to  while  away. 

I  remember  that  we  fell  to  telling  tales,  as  men 
sitting  together  will.  Old  MacKenzie  called  up 
strange  happenings  from  his  youth  in  the  hospitals 
of  London  and  Edinburgh,  horrible  things  to  freeze 
one's  blood,  such  as  come  into  the  experience  of  an 
alienist.  Von  Altdorf  had  stories  of  marvellous 
dealings  down  in  that  hotbed  of  intrigue  which  we 
call  the  Balkans,  bargains  that  were  made  by 
crowned  heads,  and  compacts  that  were  broken, 
villainies  that  were  winked  at  by  imperial  eyes. 
And  Denis  who  had  been  in  more  queer  corners  of 
the  earth  and  had  seen  more  of  men  and  women, 
more  of  fighting  and  conspiracy  than  all  of  us  put 
together,  made  our  blood  rise — aye  and  the  hair 


270    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

stand  up  on  our  scalps  too,  with  what  had  come  to 
his  eyes  and  ears.  It  was  a  memorable  night.  I 
shall  never  forget  it.  Nay,  I  've  spent  hours  by  the 
score  thinking  of  it  since,  going  over  all  that  hap 
pened,  seeing  us  all  as  we  sat  there  together  about 
the  square  table  littered  with  glasses  and  bottles 
and  ash  trays  and  petits  verres,  rosy-red  or  white 
and  innocent  looking. 

I  can  see  old  MacKenzie,  huge  and  unwieldly  at 
the  end  of  the  table,  his  great  square  head  nodding 
through  the  smoke  wreaths,  his  face  a  bit  redder  as 
the  dinner  went  on,  for  he  was  a  good  trencherman, 
MacKenzie.  I  can  see  the  Prince,  pale  and  hand 
some, — now  that  he  was  sitting  and  the  insig 
nificance  of  his  figure  was  hidden — his  thick  black 
hair,  fallen  a  little  over  his  forehead,  fiercely  mous- 
tached,  smoking  cigarettes  by  the  score,  till  the 
burnt  ends  filled  and  overflowed  the  little  tray 
before  him.  I  see  von  Altdorf,  strong  and  keen 
and  sombre-eyed,  his  weather  beaten  face  full  of 
those  lines  that  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  ex 
perience  of  the  world's  vicissitudes,  storm  and  stress 
are  wont  to  draw.  And,  more  clearly  than  all,  I 
see  Denis.  He  is  leaning  forward  with  his  elbows 
upon  the  table.  A  cigarette  burns  neglected  in  his 
fingers.  He  is  telling  us  a  tale  of  strange  piracy 
about  Pekin  and  Tientsin,  and  that  whimsical 
mouth  of  his  is  twisted  in  its  inimitable  way,  a  bit 
to  one  side  with  the  telling.  It  smiles  humorously, 
but  the  eyes  above  are  dark  and  sombre — like  Colo- 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    271 

onel  von  Altdorf  s — with  too  great  knowledge  of 
pain  and  bitterness,  and  the  straight  line  between 
his  brows  seems  never  smoothed  away.  His  hair — 
as  I  see  it — is  tumbled  a  bit  awry  over  the  fore 
head,  as  with  a  careless  hand.  His  fine  head  is 
reared  high  over  the  broad  shoulders,  high  and 
proud — but  I  see  always  the  tragic  eyes.  Poor  old 
Denis  I 

It  was  about  half  past  eleven  when  we  left  the 
table — I  think  it  cost  us  all  a  little  pang — and  drove 
to  the  Gare  de  1'Est.  The  luggage  had  been  sent 
on  ahead  of  us,  and  a  compartment  reserved.  Then, 
once  in  the  station  and  everything  in  readiness,  we 
spent  the  last  ten  minutes  in  walking  up  and  down 
the  narrow  quai  beside  the  train,  saying  our  last 
words.  The  Prince  was  with  Colonel  von  Altdorf 
and  Sir  Gavin,  giving  them,  no  doubt,  his  parting 
requests  and  orders  regarding  the  Princess  Eleanor. 
I  walked  alone  with  Denis,  his  arm  thrown  over  my 
shoulder. 

"  I  do  n't  like  your  going  !  "  I  cried  bitterly.  "  I 
wish  you  could  stay  or  I  could  go  with  you  !  " 

"  Ah,  lad,"  said  he,  "  I  wish  it  too,  that  I  might 
stay  or  you  go  with  me,  but  you  must  stay  for 
you've  ties  to  bind  you,  and  I — why  I  must  go. 
It 's  my  only  chance  to — to  serve  Her  further,  Teddy, 
you  know  that,  and  I  dare  n't  trust  myself  to  stay. 
I  can  do  some  good  work,  la  bas,  before  I  'm  snuffed 
out.  Here  I  could  do  nothing — but  drink  myself 
to  death  probably.  Ah,  yes,  I  must  go,  Ted," 


272    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  But  you  '11  come  back,  Denis  ?  "  said  I  eagerly. 
"  You  '11  come  back  of  course  1 " 

He  turned  me  a  bit,  his  arm  about  my  shoulders, 
so  that  I  looked  into  his  eyes. 

"  "Why  no,  dear  lad,"  said  he  with  a  little  smile, 
"  no,  I  sha'  n't  come  back.  We  won't  meet  again, 
Teddy."  And  my  heart  went  down  in  me  like 
lead  for  I  knew  that  there  was  no  winning  him  from 
his  resolve. 

"  If  I  can  help  to  set  her  firm  upon  the  throne 
beside  her  husband,"  he  went  on,  "  if  I  can  help  to 
save  Novodnia  for  him  and  for  her,  it  will  be  a 
finish  worth  while,  Ted,  a  finish  not  to  be  ashamed 
of,  but  it  must  be  the  finish,  lad  1  There  must  be 
no  mistake  about  that,  no  anti-climax." 

He  pulled  me  closer  with  his  arm  as  we  walked 
far  up  the  narrow  quai.  "  And  meantime,"  said 
he,  "  meantime  you  '11 — you  '11  look  after  her  ? 
You  '11  see  that  no  harm  comes  to  her  ?  Oh,  of 
course  MacKenzie  and  von  Altdorf  are  here  for 
that.  It 's  their  business,  but  I — well  I  suppose  I  'm 
a  silly  old  woman  and " 

"  I  '11  look  after  her,  Denis,"  said  I.  "  No  harm 
shall  come  to  her,  you  may  be  sure  of  that." 

"  "Why  !  "  cried  Denis,  giving  me  a  little  shake 
with  the  arm  that  lay  over  my  shoulders,  "  why, 
that 's  a  dear  old  chap  !  You  see  I  can — well  say 
things  to  you,  Teddy,  that  I  could  n't  say  to  old  Sir 
Gavin  or  even  to  von  Altdorf,  and — she 's  all  there 
is  to  me.  I  think  of  nothing  else." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    273 

Then,  for  awhile,  we  walked  in  silence,  Denis 
thinking,  I  know,  of  the  woman  he  loved,  and  I, 
sick  at  heart  over  his  leaving  me.  Steam  from  the 
engines  hissed  and  wreathed  about  us.  There  was 
the  smell  of  oil  and  smoke  and  machinery  every 
where.  Our  two  shadows,  cast  by  the  great  arc 
lights  overhead,  sprawled  and  wavered  and  danced 
grotesquely  before  our  feet.  Porters  with  luggage 
for  the  van  dodged  past  us,  breathless  and  hurried, 
and  passengers  for  the  train  rushed  up  and  down, 
the  platform  looking  for  vacant  compartments. 

"  And  there 's  nothing  else,  Denis  ?  "  I  asked, 
"  nothing  else  that  I  can  do,  no  business  to  settle, 
no  one  to  see  ? 

"  No,  lad,  no,"  said  he, "  I  've  few  ties,  God  knows 
Wait,  though !  Colette  !  Oh  Teddy,  Teddy, 
it  sends  a  stab  through  me  whenever  I  think  of  what 
that  girl  did  !  I  '11  write  to  her,  but  do  you  go  and 
look  her  up,  once  in  a  way,  Ted.  She 's  not  well. 
Indeed  I  fear  she 's  grievously  ill,  and  she 's  poorly 
provided  for.  She — loved  me  once,  poor  child ! 
She  played  me  false,  as  they  've  all  done,  some  time 
or  other,  but  I  think — I  think  she  loved  me  through 
it  all.  Who 's  to  gauge  a  woman's  motives  ?  And 
Heaven  knows  she  made  amends  most  terribly! 
Come,  they  're  closing  the  doors.  The  train  will  be 
off  directly." 

We  rejoined  the  others  who  stood  at  the  door  of 
the  reserved  compartment,  and  Denis  wrung  the 

hands  of  each  of  us. 

is 


274    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  It 's  likely  that  we  sha'  n't  meet  again,"  said  he 
with  his  old  sweet  smile,  "  MacKenzie,  and  you, 
Colonel,  and  Teddy.  Good  old  friends  1  Aye,  the 
truest  friends  I  've  ever  known  1  We  've  had  a  good 
time  together,  and  none  of  us  will  ever  quite  forget 
it.  Good-bye !  Good-bye,  all  of  you !  You  shall 
hear  what  we  do,  la  bas. — "What,  Teddy,  sour  and 
glum  ?  Ah,  none  o'  that,  dear  lad  !  Give  us  a  smile 
at  parting !  Good-bye ! " 

The  guards  ran  along  the  train,  slamming  doors 
and  crying  their  last "  En  voiture  m'sieurs  et  dames," 
and  directly  the  long  train  pulled  slowly  out  of  the 
Gare  de  1'Est. 

I  saw  a  waving  hand,  two  of  them,  from  the  win 
dow  behind  which  sat  the  Prince  of  Novodnia  and 
Denis  Mallory.  The  hands  were  lost  in  a  steam- 
wreathed  distance.  I  saw  the  rear  lights  of  the  train, 
and  watched  them  till  they  too  disappeared  in  the 
night  beyond.  Then  I  turned  with  a  heavy,  bitter 
heart  and  a  drooping  head,  back  to  the  waiting-rooms 
and  the  street,  with  von  Altdorf  and  old  MacKenzie. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  turned  his  head  for  a  last 
look  into  the  lantern  starred  gloom  which  had  swal 
lowed  up  the  train.  "  Yonder  goes  a  man ! "  said 
he,  "  aye  and  a  brave  gentleman ! "  And  old  Mac 
Kenzie  plodding  heavily  beside  him  croaked  an  in 
articulate  assent.  But  I  answered  nothing.  I  was 
too  sore  at  heart  for  I  knew  that  I  should  never 
again,  on  this  side  the  grave  at  least,  set  eyes  upon 
the  man  I  loved  above  all  men. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

I  WOULD  be  as  brief  as  possible  in  speaking  of 
the  days  that  followed  the  departure  of  the 
Prince  of  Novodnia  and  Denis  Mallory,  for  it 
was  a  time  of  inaction,  and  must  be  of  small  inter 
est.  We  had,  in  due  time,  a  dispatch  from  Vienna 
telling  us  that  the  travellers  had  safely  reached  that 
point  in  their  journey,  then  later,  one  from  Bel 
grade,  and  at  last,  to  our  great  relief,  from  Novodni 
the  capital  of  Novodnia,  stating,  in  few  words,  that 
the  end  was  reached,  and  in  time,  they  hoped  to 
check  the  advance  of  the  Pavelovitch  forces  and  to 
repair,  to  some  extent  at  least,  the  harm  wrought 
upon  the  country. 

I  find  it  difficult  to  write  of  these  days,  for,  as  I 
have  said,  it  was  a  time  of  inaction,  and  the  trifling 
events  that  filled  our  hours  and  absorbed  our  activ 
ities,  seem,  now  that  I  go  over  them  in  preparation 
for  setting  them  upon  paper,  of  small  moment,  im 
material  and  irrelevant  to  the  tale  I  have  striven  to 
tell. 

Yet  one  thing  I  must  set  down.  I  had  moved  my 
belongings  from  my  old  quarters  in  the  Boulevard 
Montparnasse  to  Denis's  studio,  partly  for  the  sim 
ple  satisfaction  of  living  where  he  and  I  had  been 
so  much  together,  and  to  prevent  the  rooms  falling 


276    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

into  strange  hands ;  partly  that  I  might  be  nearer 
the  old  convent  where  I  spent  many  hours  with 
MacKenzie  and  von  Altdorf  and  Miss  Mannering, 
and,  indeed,  sometimes  with  the  Princess,  though 
she  still  kept  much  aloof  from  us  all. 

Well,  as  I  say,  I  had  taken  the  studio,  and  sat 
there  one  morning  with  Colonel  von  Altdorf  talking 
over,  as  was  our  wont,  that  famous  night's  work  in 
the  rescue  of  the  Princess,  when  von  Altdorf  cried 
out: 

"  But,  by  our  Lady,  man,  I  'd  give  something  to 
know  what  became  of  those  rascals  afterward! 
whether  the  fellow  we  revived  was  able  to  care  for 
the  others,  and  what  they  did  with  Steinbriicke's 
body.  There  must  have  been  an  awkward  situation 
with  that  clay  on  their  bands." 

"  I  'd  jolly  well  like  to  go  and  find  out  I "  said  I, 
laughing  a  little,  "  if  it  were  n't  too  much  like  put 
ting  one's  head  in  the  lion's  mouth.  Gad,  I  've  never 
walked  the  streets  since  without  turning  cold  every 
time  a  step  came  up  behind  me,  for  fear  it  might  be 
an  '  agent,'  on  my  track  for  murder.  I  know  ex 
actly  how  a  criminal  at  large  feels.  It  would  be  a 
lark  to  go  there  and  ask  a  few  questions,  though ! " 

"Well,"  said  the  Colonel  slowly,  "why  not? 
After  all  it  would  be  safe  enough.  The  concierge 
does  n't  know  you  from  Adam,  and  even  if  one  of 
those  ruffians  should  be  about,  which  isn't  proba 
ble,  he  would  n't  dare  say  a  word.  They  've  as  good 
reasons  as  we,  or  better,  for  not  wanting  the  affair 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    277 

to  leak  out.  "Why  not  go  ?  You  can  be  a  harmless 
student  looking  for  rooms,  like  Denis." 

"  By  Jove ! "  I  cried.  "  It  sounds  easy  enough  1 
I  might  reconnoitre  a  bit,  anyhow.  I  '11  do  it,  right 
away  now,  this  morning,  before  I  weaken.  "Where 's 
my  hat  ?  "Will  you  wait  here  ?  I  shall  be  back  in 
an  hour." 

I  caught  up  my  hat  and  stick  and  went  quickly 
out,  laughing  still,  at  the  sheer  audacity  of  the 
thing.  I  took  a  cab  as  far  as  the  Avenue  du  Maine 
but  dismissed  it  at  the  impasse,  and  walked  in,  with 
— I  must  confess — some  inward  qualms  now  that  I 
was  on  the  very  ground,  for  my  quest  might  well 
turn  out  a  very  dangerous  bit  of  folly. 

The  fat,  grey-haired  old  concierge  was  sitting  on 
a  stool  outside  her  loge,  in  the  sunshine,  cutting  up 
vegetables  for  a  soup,  with  a  great  earthen  bowl  in 
her  lap.  She  gave  me  a  smile  of  welcome,  for  she 
was  a  merry  old  soul,  and  I  asked  her  if  there  were 
any  vacant  studios,  suites  for  choice,  in  the  building. 
The  concierge  raised  a  pair  of  expressive  hands  to 
heaven. 

Studios  ?  but  yes,  parbleu !  More  studios  than 
she  wished.  This  year,  God  knew,  she  had  had 
pas  de  chance !  There  seemed  to  be  no  etudiants 
in  Paris,  and  for  result,  voila  three  grands  ateliers 
empty  on  her  hands,  to  say  nothing  of  the  sculptors' 
sheds !  "Would  Monsieur  desire  to  look  at  one  beau 
tiful  suite,  but  beautiful,  voyez  vous !  and  si  com 
mode  !  It  had  been,  only  two  days  since,  vacated. 


278    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  Ah ! "  said  I,  inwardly,  "  now  we  're  getting  to 
the  matter ! " 

"Why  yes,  possibly  later,  Monsieur  would  go  up 
and  have  a  look  at  the  rooms,  but  he  would  be  glad 
to  know  first  what  they  were  like. 

Bien,  they  were  a  studio,  carre,  quite  large,  with 
sidelight,  a  sleeping  room  and  petite  cuisine.  There 
was  also  another  sleeping  room  beyond  the  studio, 
if  one  wished  it,  though  it  did  not  properly  belong 
to  the  suite. 

"  That 's  it !  "  I  cried  again,  inwardly.  "  That 's 
the  one !  vacated,  eh  ?  So  they  've  made  off ! " 

But  surely  such  a  suite  should  not  lack  occu 
pants  !  Was  it  possible  that  it  must  go  begging  ? 

The  protesting  hands  again  appealed  to  heaven. 

What  would  you  ?  As  one  had  said  before,  there 
seemed  to  be  no  more  students  in  Paris.  Oh,  to  be 
sure,  there  had  been  occupants  of  the  suite,  but  only 
for  quinze  jours,  and,  voyez  vous — this  with  a  low 
ered  voice  and  confidentially  nodding  head — voyez 
vous,  strange  occupants,  if  one  should  ask,  Alle- 
mands  by  their  look,  four  messieurs  and  one  woman, 
une  grande  dame,  like  a  queen  !  One  had  said  she 
was  the  sister  of  the  Monsieur  with  the  eye-glass, 
but — a  shrug  here,  and  a  droop  of  the  eyelid — that 
was  as  one  liked  to  call  it.  Aye,  strange  company  ! 
What  would  Monsieur  say,  for  example,  of  a  quarrel 
among  the  four  Allemands  one  night,  over  the 
lady,  sans  doute,  a  quarrel  si  feroce,  that  it  left 
blood  stains  on  the  floor Yes,  yes,  to  be  sure, 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    279 

they  had  tried  to  scrub  them  out,  but  one  knew  blood 
stains  for  all  that ! — si  feroce  that  every  one  of  the 
messieurs  was  in  bandages  the  next  morning,  and 
one,  mon  dieu,  one  so  near  the  point  of  death  that 
he  was  carried  down  to  a  fiacre  like  a  dead  man, 
save  for  his  cursings  in  some  foreign  tongue,  and 
driven  away  to  a  hospital  probably  ! 

I  think  I  nearly  cried  out  at  this.  Von  Stein- 
brticke  was  n't  dead  after  all,  then  ! 

Dangerous  lodgers,  indeed,  one  would  say,  I  ha 
stened  to  assure  her  with  the  proper  amount  of 
horror.  And  the  house  well  rid  of  them.  It  would 
seem  to  be  a  case  for  the  police.  But  the  lady? 
Did  she  leave  with  the  others  ? 

Another  inimitably  French  shrug. 

Ah !  Monsieur  arrived  at  the  point !  What  would 
Monsieur  think  of  the  lady's  complete  disappear 
ance  the  night  of  the  quarrel  ?  but  complete,  voyez 
vous!  She  had  never  been  seen  since,  nor  the 
young  woman  who  was  her  maid.  Si,  one  saw 
strange  things  from  time  to  time  when  one  was  a 
concierge,  but  none  so  strange  as  this.  No  more 
Allemands  for  18  bis  impasse  du  Maine !  Mon 
dieu!  they  might  be  anarchists.  One  might  be 
blown  out  of  one's  bed  some  fine  night !  No,  no 
more  Allemands  !  Would  Monsieur  care  to  go  up 
and  look  at  the  rooms  ? 

I  had  found  out  all  I  wanted  to  know,  but  to 
oblige  the  old  woman  I  went  up  to  the  bare  and 
dismantled  rooms  and  listened  to  much  unnecessary 


280    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

information  as  to  their  desirability.  It  gave  me, 
upon  my  word,  something  of  a  thrill,  to  stand  again 
on  the  spot  where  I  had  fought  my  long  battle  with 
that  villain  Steinbrucke,  to  go  through  the  little 
passage  where  we  had  made  our  first  attack  and 
where  von  Altdorf  had  so  nearly  come  to  grief,  but 
I  was  glad,  at  last,  to  get  away  from  the  place — it 
smelled  of  tragedy — and  out  once  more  into  the 
warm  spring  sunshine,  leaving  the  old  concierge 
smiling  and  delighted  with  a  gold  louis. 

As  I  have  said,  we  saw,  in  these  days,  little  of 
the  Princess  Eleanor,  for  she  kept  much  by  herself, 
solitary  and  queenly,  brooding  over  her  grief  and 
injury,  her  wrecked  love,  and,  as  she  believed,  her 
blighted  life.  She  passed  her  time  reading  or  idle 
in  her  own  apartments,  or  walked  through  the 
great  garden  in  a  tragic  isolation  that  no  one  dared 
brave. 

I  was  glad  to  perceive,  however,  that  as  the  days 
and  weeks  went  by,  she  showed  an  increasing  de 
sire  for  the  company  of  her  cousin,  Miss  Manner- 
ing,  and  that  the  coldness  between  them  seemed  in 
a  fair  way  to  disappear  altogether.  Toward  Sir 
Gavin,  von  Altdorf  and  myself  she  was  ever  cour 
teous  and  considerate  but  never  familiar.  She 
maintained  always  a  certain  barrier  of  formality, 
an  evidence  constantly  in  view  that  she  found  her 
self  unable  to  forgive  the  injury  we  had  done  her. 

And  now  that  I  may  look  back  upon  it  all  dis 
passionately,  with  the  impartial  clearness  that  time 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    281 

gives  to  the  eye,  I  cannot  feel  any  of  the  resent 
ment,  any  of  the  anger  that  filled  me  in  those  days 
at  her  seeming  blindness  to  the  fact  that  what  we 
had  done  had  been  done  for  her  own  good,  to  save 
her  life  indeed,  and  greatly  to  our  discomfort. 

I  can  see  now,  as  in  those  days  I  would  not  see, 
that  a  woman  may  hold  the  saving  of  her  life 
cheaply  beside  the  wrecking  of  that  life's  happiness 
in  the  cruelest  fashion  possible. 

I  can  see  how  she  must  have  suffered,  what  un 
speakable  agonies  of  shame  and  despair  and  hope 
lessness  she  must  have  endured  at  having  the  prom 
ise  of  a  very  heaven  upon  earth,  a  passion  of  love 
too  great  for  words,  held  to  her  lips  only  to  be 
dashed  away  when  she  was  about  to  drink.  Aye, 
I  can  see  now,  that  few  women  have  suffered  so, 
and  I  wonder  little  at  her  resentment  toward  those 
who  had  brought  grief  and  shame  upon  her. 

Still,  for  some  reason — indeed,  I  know  not  what 
— toward  me,  among  the  three  of  us,  she  seemed  to 
cherish  least  ill  will.  It  seemed  to  afford  her  a  cer 
tain  pleasure  to  talk  with  me  when  we  met  by 
chance  in  the  garden,  as  sometimes  occurred,  for  I 
walked  there  now  and  then  in  the  cool  shade. 

I  remember  that  it  was  at  our  first  meeting  in 
the  garden  she  learned  from  me  of  Denis's  depar 
ture  with  the  Prince  for  Novodnia. 

I  had  been  walking  up  and  down  one  of  the 
gravel  paths  under  the  acacias,  puffing  at  my  pipe 
and  wondering  what  was  forward  at  the  seat  of 


282    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

war — we  had  that  morning  received  the  dispatch 
from  Novodni  telling  us  that  the  Prince  and  Denis 
were  safely  arrived — I  was  wondering  what  would 
be  the  first  steps  taken  to  check  Georgias  and  his 
horde  in  their  advance  upon  the  capital,  when  I 
saw  the  Princess  Eleanor  coming  down  from  the 
house  with  a  book  under  her  arm.  I  could  not 
have  retreated  unseen,  and  so  I  waited,  bowing,  hat 
in  hand,  and  apologised  for  my  trespass  upon  the 
ground  where  I  had  no  right  to  be. 

But  the  Princess  gave  me  a  little  faint  smile 
and  begged  me  to  walk  there  whenever  I  might 
choose. 

"  Indeed,"  said  she  seating  herself  in  the  long 
steamer  chair  that  had  been  set  for  her,  "  indeed,  I 
was  a  bit  lonely,  a  bit  at  a  loss  for  something  to  do, 
some  one  to  talk  with.  Jessica  is  in  the  house  with 
— with  Colonel  von  Altdorf,"  and  she  paused  to 
smile  amusedly,  a  bit  wistfully.  "Moreover,"  she 
went  on,  "  I  have  long  wanted  to  ask  about — those 
ruffians  in  the  impasse  du  Maine.  What  has  be 
come  of  them  ?  What  happened  after  I — after  we 
came  away  ?  You  were  fighting,  I  remember,  with 
their  leader — Herr  von  Steinbriicke,  is  it  not? — 
and  Colonel  von  Altdorf  with  another  man.  I 
trust  you  took  no  harm,  no  wound  ?  " 

"  Why  no,  Madame,"  said  I  with  a  little  embar 
rassed  laugh,  "none  at  all — though  I  confess 
it  was  an  accident  brought  me  out  of  my  own 
encounter." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    283 

"  And  the — men  ?  "  she  demanded. 

""Why,"  I  cried,  turning  a  bit  red,  "we  don't 
know  about  them" — for  this  was  before  I  had 
made  my  inquiries  in  the  impasse — "  we  wounded 
them  all,  and — well  as  for  Steinbriicke,  we've 
reason  to  think  he  '11  fight  no  more." 

"  He 's — dead  ?  "  she  cried  in  a  half  whisper. 

"  I  'm  afraid  so,  Madame,"  said  I.  "  But  he  well 
deserved  it,  so  do  n't  waste  your  pity  upon  him.  It 
was  a  better  death  than  he  merited." 

She  sat  for  a  little  time  silent,  her  mind,  I  know, 
going  over  that  night's  work,  over  her  long  sus 
pense,  the  attack,  her  peril  from  the  fellow  who 
would  have  killed  her,  and  finally  her  rescue. 

"And  your — and  Mr.  Mallory?"  she  asked 
presently  in  a  low  voice  that  she  strove  to  render 
casual,  ordinary,  "  I  hear  nothing  of  him.  I  trust 
he  has  not  left  your  company.  I  owe  him  thanks 
for  my  rescue."  She  kept  her  eyes  down  but  I 
think  her  breath  waited  for  my  answer. 

"  Denis  ?  "  I  cried  amazed,  "  Denis  ?  "Why,  Ma 
dame,  you  surely  knew !  They  must  have  told  you ! 
— Denis  has  gone  with  the  Prince !  They  reached 
Novodni  last  night.  He's  gone  to  help  save  the 
country ! " 

She  looked  up  swiftly  with  a  white  face  and 
parted  lips.  Her  eyes  were  full  of  terror. 

"He's — gone — down  there?"  she  whispered. 
"He's  gone  with — the  Prince?  He's  going — to 
fight  for — Novodnia  ?  " 


284    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Then  all  at  once  she  seemed  to  realise  that  she 
was  showing  her  excitement  too  plainly,  for  she 
lowered  her  eyes  and  paused  a  moment  to  control 
her  voice  so  that  it  was  cold  and  fairly  steady 
when  she  spoke  again. 

"  Indeed  I  wonder  that  I — was  not  told,"  said 
she.  "  Not  that  it  is  of  any  consequence  to  me," 
she  hastened  to  add,  "  but  I  should  have  liked  to 
send  my  thanks,  nay  my  real  gratitude  to  this — 
gentleman  for  his  service. — I  wonder  that  he  should 
choose  to  go  with  the  Prince  since  the  quarrel  is 
none  of  his.  I  presume  the  mere  love  of  fighting 
draws  him." 

"  Madame ! "  I  cried  warmly,  "  the  bravest  gentle, 
man  in  Europe  was  not  drawn  into  a  petty  Balkan 
squabble  for  love  of  fighting !  He  went  there  be 
cause  it  was  his  only  means  of  serving  you  further. 
I  wonder  that  you  who  know  him  can  do  him  such 
injustice  !  He  has  gone  to  Novodnia  to  lend  all  his 
skill  and  strength  to  seating  Prince  Karl  firmly 
once  more  upon  his  throne,  and  you  beside  him,  and 
doing  this  he  means  to  lose  his  own  life.  He  will 
not,  if  he  can  avoid  it,  come  out  of  the  war  alive." 
And  I  told  her  how  Denis  had  begged  the  Prince  to 
let  him  go,  and  I  told  her  what  he  had  said  to  me 
on  the  platform  at  the  station,  how  his  last  words 
had  been  to  urge  me  to  watch  over  her.  Nay  I  went 
further,  angered  beyond  restraint  at  her  speech.  I 
told  her  how  he  had  laboured,  and  grown  white  and 
ill  during  that  week  of  her  imprisonment,  and  of 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    285 

how  he  had  planned  the  attack  upon  the  impasse 
du  Maine  and  borne  the  fiercest  of  the  fighting.  I 
went  back  further  and  told  her  what  I  knew  of  his 
struggles  with  temptation,  with  himself,  when  he 
had  used  to  see  her  daily  in  the  garden,  how  he  had 
to  fight  a  stern  battle  to  play  his  part  with  honour, 
how  easy  it  would  have  been  for  him  to  carry  her 
off  and  defy  us  all,  but  how  he  would  not  do  it.  I 
told  her  how  he  had  loathed  the  deceit  he  had  to 
practice,  how  both  von  Altdorf  and  I  had  seen  him 
fighting  his  battle  alone  after  he  had  come  from 
her.  I  told  her  something  of  how  he  had  given  up 
absinthe  and  what  it  had  cost  him,  and  of  what  I 
had  found  late  one  night  when  I  came  in  from  my 
chance  interview  with  Steinbrucke,  the  night  after 
Denis  had  seen  her  in  the  garden  for  the  last  time, 
and  she  had  told  him  what  she  thought  him.  I 
told  her  how  the  Prince  had  forced  a  fight  with 
Denis  and  how  Denis  had  spared  his  life. 

And  so  I  went  on,  defending  the  man  I  loved, 
telling  her  how  we  all,  old  MacKenzie,  Colonel  von 
Altdorf,  the  Prince,  all  of  us  had  come  to  think  of 
him  as  the  noblest,  most  unselfish  gentleman  we 
had  ever  known.  And  the  Princess,  eyes  upon  the 
ground,  hands  gripped  tensely  in  her  lap,  listened 
with  never  a  word  of  protest,  nay  with  a  sort  of 
eagerness,  I  '11  swear,  a  breathlessness  that  mutely 
prayed  me  go  on  when  I  paused  for  breath. 

I  was,  at  the  moment,  too  angry  to  notice  little 
signs,  too  hurt  to  observe  significant  things,  but 


286    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

now,  as  I  go  over  the  scene  in  my  mind,  I  can  pic 
ture  her,  flushed,  silent,  listening,  full  of  an  eager 
ness  that  she  would  not  manifest,  hungry  for  words 
and  praises  of  the  man  she  loved,  but  ever  forcing 
herself  to  the  cold  indifference  in  which  her  pride 
must  cloak  itself. 

And  when  I  had  made  an  end  of  speaking,  stam 
mering  for  very  want  of  words,  flushed  and  un 
strung,  she  only  stirred  in  her  chair  with  a  little 
semblance  of  weariness,  and  raised  her  gloomy  eyes 
for  an  instant  to  mine. 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  she  said  coldly,  "  this  gentleman 
seems  to  stand  in  no  lack  of  friends  to  defend  him. 
I  have  no  wish  to  dispute  you.  I  remember 
him  only  as  one  who  wronged  and  shamed  me 

cruelly May  we  not  speak  of  something 

else  ?  " 

But  I  sprang  to  my  feet  red  and  angry. 

"  If  he  wronged  you,  Madame,"  I  cried,  "  it  was 
to  save  your  life  !  If  he  seemed  to  do  a  dishonour 
able  thing  it  was  because  he  held  your  safety  higher 
than  his  honour.  And  if  all  this  is  not  enough,  he 
saved  your  life  a  second  time,  and  is  giving  his  own 
at  this  very  moment  for  your  sake !  I  beg  your 
leave  to  go,  Madame  !  " 

The  Princess  looked  up  swiftly  and  half  stretched 
out  her  hand  to  me.  Her  eyes  were  wide  and 
pleading  and  her  lips  quivered. 

"  Ah,  no,  no !  Do  n't  go,  Mr.  Creighton !  "  she 
begged  very  low.  "  I  do  n't  mean  to " 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      287 

"  I  beg  your  leave  to  go,  Princess  !  "  said  I  again, 
for  I  was  very  angry. 

"  Why,  very  well,  sir,"  said  she  faintly,  and  sank 
back  once  more  in  her  chair.  "  I  would  not  have 
you  go,  but  if  you  must — why  I  won't  stop  you. 
Only — only  remember  that  you  are  always — wel 
come  here — in  the  garden — I  shall  always  be — glad 
to  see  you."  And  I  marched  stiffly  away,  saying  to 
myself  that  it  would  be  a  very  long  time  before  I 
should  walk  again  in  the  old  convent  garden. 


CHAPTEK  XXIII 

WAITING — waiting — waiting.  That  seems 
to  me,  as  I  look  back,  to  have  been  the 
burden  of  those  days  and  weeks  that 
dragged  so  interminably  and  left  with  us  no  record 
of  action  or  accomplishment.  "Waiting  for  what  ? 
I  know  not,  save  for  news  from  the  south,  and  of 
news  there  was  all  too  little.  I  had  a  letter  from 
Denis — it  is  before  me  now — written  a  week  or  so 
after  his  arrival  in  Novodni.  It  told  vaguely  of 
plans  afoot  or  perfected  for  the  defence  of  the  cap 
ital,  for  the  division  of  the  attacking  army  by  draw 
ing  a  part  of  its  strength  away  toward  the  north  to 
protect  its  own  communications.  It  told  of  meas 
ures  passed  by  the  Prince  to  gain  the  favour  and 
support  of  an  uncertain  populace ;  of  the  Prince's 
calm,  brave  bearing  in  the  face  of  danger ;  and  of 
his  own  delight  at  the  prospect  of  again  smelling 
powder  and  sleeping  under  a  tent.  And  at  the  very 
end  of  the  letter  one  little  paragraph  that  bespoke 
the  old  Denis.  "  You  '11  guard  Her  well,  dear  lad  ? 
You  '11  let  no  harm  reach  Her  ?  You  '11  write  me  of 
her  now  and  then,  how  she  looks,  if  she 's  well,  if 
she  seems  happier  ?  That 's  all  that  matters,  you 
know,  that  she  shall  be  well  and  happy." 

I  spoke  of  the  letter  to  the  Princess  when  I  saw 
her  next  in  the  garden ;  for  with  the  passing  of  my 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    289 

first  anger  I  had  given  up  my  resolve  not  to  meet 
her  again,  and  so  talked  with  her  often,  striving  as 
best  I  might,  to  shift  her  thoughts  from  unpleasant 
things  to  ordinary  matters,  the  cheerful  matters  of 
every  day. 

But  when  I  told  her  of  the  letter's  end,  quoted 
his  words  as  nearly  as  I  could,  the  Princess  bent 
her  head  very  low  and  the  hands  in  her  lap  trem 
bled.  Then  presently  she  asked  some  little  ques 
tions  that  started  me  talking  again  of  him. 

I  think  I  was  stupid  enough,  in  those  days,  not 
to  notice  that  when  I  was  with  her,  our  talk,  how 
ever  begun,  managed  always  to  fall  upon  Denis 
Mallory — my  talk,  that  is,  for  the  Princess  said  no 
word  of  him,  only  listened,  face  turned  away.  I 
suppose  it  was  because  my  mind  was  so  full  of  him 
that  speaking  my  thoughts  seemed  but  natural.  I 
suppose  that  is  why  it  never  occurred  to  me  that  we 
talked  of  little  else,  that  if  we  spoke  of  the  other 
matters,  some  hint,  some  question  of  hers,  indirectly 
put,  brought  him  back. 

I  told  her — indeed  I  must  have  told  it  many 
times  over — of  the  first  evening  in  the  Cafe  d'Alen- 
9on  when  we  chose  Denis  to  play  the  Prince's  part 
before  her.  I  told  her  of  every  incident  that  fol 
lowed,  from  that  time  to  the  last  dinner  at  Yoisin's 
and  the  parting  at  the  Gare  de  1'Est.  I  told  her 
such  adventures  of  his  as  I  happened  to  know,  ad 
ventures  afield  and  afloat,  wars  in  strange  countries, 
filibustering  and  looting,  and  searching  for  aban- 

19 


290    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

doned  mines.  And  the  Princess  Eleanor  listened, 
face  turned  away,  speaking  no  word. 

So  we  waited,  inactive,  idle,  hoping  for  tidings 
that  would  set  our  minds  at  rest  and  give  us  a  defi 
nitely  marked  future  for  which  to  make  arrange 
ments  ;  fearing  things  that  we  would  not  admit  to 
each  other,  nay  not  even  to  ourselves. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  had  news  from  time  to  time, 
now  a  dispatch  telling  in  cypher  of  some  new  move, 
ment,  now  a  letter  from  some  one  high  among 
Prince  Karl's  advisers,  from  the  Prince  himself,  or, 
as  in  one  instance,  from  Denis. 

And  ever,  as  information  came  to  him,  as  the 
situation  became  clearer  and  the  strength  and  mo 
bility  of  the  opposing  forces  was  made  plain,  von 
Altdorf 's  brows  drew  lower  and  lower  and  the  line  of 
his  mouth  more  stern.  He  said  nothing  to  me,  nor, 
I  believe,  to  any  one,  but  I  knew  that  the  gloomiest 
forebodings  filled  his  heart,  and  that  the  welfare 
of  Novodnia  lay  in  desperate  straits. 

But  just  at  this  time  something  occurred  that  for 
a  while  took  my  mind  from  warfare  and  led  it  into 
a  very  different  channel. 

Returning  to  the  rue  Boissonade  one  morning 
from  the  other  side  of  the  river,  I  found  a  young 
lad  waiting  at  the  logo  of  the  concierge,  that  canny 
old  body  having  refused  to  trust  him  alone  in  the 
studio.  The  lad  explained  that  he  was  from  Madem 
oiselle  Olivier  who  was  very  ill  and  wished  to  see 
me  at  once. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    291 

"  Mile.  Olivier  ?  "  said  I.  "  Now,  who  the  devil 's 
Mile.  Olivier?  I  don't  know  any  Mile.  Olivier! 
You  've  come  to  the  wrong  place,  mon  vieux." 

But  the  lad  insisted,  "  Mais  si,  Mile.  Olivier ! 
Mile.  Colette  Olivier ! "  She  demanded  to  see  me 
because  I  was  the  friend  of  Monsieur  St.  Denis !  I 
must  come  at  once. 

"Ah!"  I  cried.  "Mile.  Colette,  eh?  Why 
did  n't  you  say  so  before  ?  Come  along ! " 

"We  took  a  fiacre,  in  which  the  lad  sat  beside  me, 
stiffly  upright,  awed  and  silent  at  such  splendour, 
and  drove  across  the  Boulevard  Montparnasse  and 
down  the  familiar  old  Boul'  Miche'  till  we  came  to 
one  of  the  narrow  little  side  streets  near  the  Musee 
de  Cluny. 

Here,  there  were  interminable  stairs  to  climb, 
dark  stairs  none  too  clean,  past  doors  whence  came 
an  odour  of  cooking,  a  clatter  of  dishes,  household 
squabblings.  Then,  at  the  very  top  of  all,  a  door 
where  the  lad  knocked  softly  and  called  through 
the  keyhole, 

"  C'est  moi !  moi,  avec,  Monsieur  !  " 

A  young  woman  came  out  upon  the  landing — 
the  ordinary  type  of  Boul'  Miche'  young  woman, 
though  with  a  certain  unfamiliar  gentleness  of 
bearing,  a  soft  moisture  in  her  eyes,  an  utter  and 
strange  lack  of  coquetry. 

She  closed  the  door  after  her,  and  from  behind  it 
came  a  sound  of  hoarse  coughing,  of  little  moans  in 
a  faint  voice. 


292    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"  C'est,  Monsieur  Creighton  ?  "  asked  the  young 
woman,  "  1'ami  de  St.  Denis  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  I,  "  yes,  I  'm  Creighton.  And 
Mile.  Colette  ?  She 's  ill,  poor  child  ?  Can  I  do 
anything  ?  St.  Denis  would  have  me  care  for  her 
in  any  way  possible,  I  know." 

"  Helas,  Monsieur ! "  said  the  young  woman. 
"  None  of  us  may  care  for  her  long !  She 's  very, 
very  ill,  but  she  would  see  you  before — before  it 's 
too  late,  because  you  were  the  friend  of  St.  Denis. 
She  would  give  you  messages  for  him.  Will  you 
come  in,  Monsieur  ? — But  do  not  stay  long — she  is 
so  weak !  She  must  not  be  tired ! " 

I  went  into  the  room  and  the  young  woman 
closed  the  door  softly  after  me,  remaining  outside. 

It  was  a  very  small  room,  hot  and  close  and 
stifling,  from  the  tiny  stove  in  the  corner  that  filled 
it  with  fumes  of  coke.  The  window  was  closed 
tight. 

The  girl  in  the  bed  gave  a  little  weak  cry  when 
she  saw  me,  and  held  out  her  hand  eagerly.  The 
change  in  her,  since  I  had  seen  her  before,  was 
shocking.  She  was  terribly  thin  and  white,  and  the 
two  red  spots  in  her  cheeks  gleamed  like  crimson 
paint.  Her  eyes,  that  seemed  twice  too  large, 
burned  feverishly  in  their  hollows. 

"  You — came,  Monsieur  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  I — I 
thought  you  would  come.  It  was  so — so  good  of 
you!  St.  Denis  wrote  me  that — you  would  come 
when  I  should — send  for  you." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    293 

I  dropped  upon  my  knees  beside  the  bed  and 
caught  the  two  wasted  hands  in  mine. 

"  Ah,  child,  child ! "  I  cried,  "  why  did  n't  you 
send  for  me  before  ?  Why  did  you  wait  till — now  ? 
I  'd  have  come  so  gladly,  Colette,  so  gladly  ! " 

She  gave  me  a  little  tired  smile  and  turned  her 
head  wearily  upon  the  pillow.  "Grand  merci, 
Monsieur!"  she  whispered,  "grand  merci!  But 
I  did  n't  need  anything — they  've  been  good  to  me, 
Elise,  and  Marie  Delmar,  and  all.  But — I  wanted 
to  see — you  to — ask  you  to  say — say  good-bye  for 
me — to  St.  Denis " 

"Ah  no,  no!"  I  cried.  "Ah  no,  Colette!  It 
has  n't  come  to  that !  We  're  going  to  take  care  of 
you  now,  to  take  you  away  where  you  '11  get  better 
soon,  where  you'll  get  quite  well — don't  talk  of 
good-byes,  child ! " 

But  she  moved  her  head  on  the  pillow  and  a  little 
fit  of  coughing  came  and  shook  all  her  frail  body 
cruelly,  shook  her  till  she  gasped  for  breath. 

"  It 's — too  late,  Monsieur  ! "  she  whispered  after 
a  time.  "Listen — listen,  Monsieur!  I  have  very 
little — strength  left,  listen  !  Say  to — St.  Denis, 
dear  St.  Denis  !  as  I  cannot — say  to  him,  myself, 
that  I  'm — I  'm  glad  it — turns  out — this  way.  Say 
to  him — that  I  've  loved  him  always,  always,  from 
— the  very  first,  that  when  I — ran  away,  when  I 
played  him  false — it  was  for  a  silly,  silly  pique — a 
woman's  pique  because  I — I  knew  that  he  had — 
never — loved  me,  that  he  'd  only  been  sorry  for  me, 


294    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

kind  to  me,  kinder  than  any  one  else  in  all  the 
world.  Oh,  say  to  him  that  I — loved  him  madly 
through  it  all.  Tell  him,  Monsieur,  that  what  I — I 
did,  a  little  while  ago,  for  him,  was — reparation,  to 
make  up  for — for  wronging  him ;  that  I  did  it — 
gladly — ah  so  gladly  !  Tell  him  not  to  be — sorry, 
not  to — regret.  Tell  him  that  when  I — go — as  I 
must  soon  go,  it  will  be  thinking  of  him,  saying  his 
name,  holding  his — locket  to — my  lips  1 "  And  she 
pulled  from  her  bosom  a  little  flat  locket  that  was 
fastened  about  her  neck  by  a  thin  gold  chain. 

Another  fit  of  coughing  shook  her,  and  at  its  end 
she  lay  silent  for  a  time,  panting  for  breath,  weak 
from  the  strain.  The  edge  of  a  letter,  dislodged  by 
her  movements,  showed  at  the  neck  of  her  garment. 
I  saw  the  writing  and  it  was  Denis's  hand. 

"Tell  me — Monsieur,"  she  whispered  presently. 
"  He  '11  come  back — back  to  Paris,  won't  he,  St. 
Denis?  He'll  come  back  to — her?  He'll  make 
her  leave  the  husband  whom  she — does  n't  love  ? 
They  '11  be  happy  together  after  a  time,  won't  they, 
— Monsieur  ?  See,  I  'm  glad,  glad  !  I  would  have 

him  happy Oh,  but  not  too  happy Yes, 

yes,  I  'd  have  him  come  back  to  her ! " 

"Helas,  Colette!"  said  I.  "He'll  never  come 
back  to  her,  nor  to  any  of  us  who  love  him  !  We 
sha'  n't  see  him  again,  child.  You  '11  see  him  before 
we  will — if  one  may  believe  the  books.  I  will 
write  him  all  you  've  said,  dear  girl,  but  I  sha'  n't 
see  him  again,  ici  bas." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    295 

She  turned  her  head  upon  the  pillow  so  that  her 
great  eyes  burnt  into  mine,  and  there  was  a  little 
wondering  glad  smile  at  her  lips. 

"  He — means  to — die  down  there  ?  "  she  whis 
pered,  "  to  die,  Monsieur  ?  He — won't  come  back 
to  the  other  woman,  the  tall,  proud  one  ?  Ah  if — I 
might  meet  him,  la  haut! — Monsieur,  Monsieur, 
you  've  made  me  so  glad  to  go,  so  glad ! — If  I  might 
meet  him ! — Tell  me,  Monsieur,  do  you  believe — do 

you  think ?  Ah,  but  you  do  n't  know,  do  you  ? 

Personne  n'sait  pas — not  even  le  bon  pere  Michel ! 
— He  means  to — die  down  there,  to  die  as — as  I  'm 
dying  ? — Oh,  I  shall  be  waiting  for  him,  moi !  wait 
ing,  a  1'autre  cote ! — How  I  loved  him  in  those  old 
days ! — Monsieur,  do  you  know  what  love  is  ?  It 's 
a  rose — with  thorns.  Roses  die,  Monsieur,  in  hands 
that  are  careless — and  they  're  thrown  away,  with 
ered — but  sometimes — they  live  forever — if  one 
shelters  them  and  guards  them,  waters  them  with 
one's  heart's  blood,  carries  them  in  one's  bosom. 
He  never  loved  me,  helas !  He  only  pitied  me — I 
wonder — I  wonder  if  he  '11 — love  me — la  haut  ? — 
Listen,  M'sieur !  Once  he  taught  me,  my  St.  Denis, 
a  little  song,  a  love  song,  en  Anglais.  I — I  do  not 
know  what  it  means,  the  words — but  I — sang  it  to 
him  with  my  guitar.  "Will  you  write  to  him  that — 
that  I  sang  it  once  again,  before — I  went  ?  Such  a 
pretty  little — chanson — all  of — of  love !  "  And 
smiling  softly  as  she  lay,  one  cheek  upon  the  pillow, 
her  great  mass  of  black  hair  loosened  from  its  braid 


296    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

and  streaming  to  the  floor,  she  closed  her  eyes  and 
sang  just  over  her  breath, 

"  '  Ole  mozzaire  'Ubbaird 
She  went  to  ze  cubbaird 
To  fetch  'er  poor  dog  abbone  ! '  " 

"  Colette,  Colette ! "  I  cried,  in  an  agony,  hiding 
my  face  in  the  bedclothes.  It  was  the  most  heart 
breaking  thing  I  ever  heard.  But  she  raised  one 
white  hand  to  hush  me  and  sang  on,  just  over  a 
whisper,  smiling  tenderly,  as  one  smiles  in  sleep. 

"  ' — But  w'en  she  got  zaire, 
Ze  cubbaird  waz  bare, 
An'  so  ze  poor  dog  got — got — none ! '  " 

And  a  most  terrible  spasm  of  coughing  came  again 
to  rack  her,  so  terrible  that  I  thought  she  would 
never  have  done. 

The  door  opened  behind  me  and  the  young  French 
woman  came  in  quickly. 

"  Ah,  Monsieur !  "  she  whispered,  "  you  must  go, 
you  have  stayed  too  long  already  ! "  She  caught  up 
a  medicine  glass  from  a  stand  near  the  bed,  and 
forced  some  of  the  liquid  between  the  girl's  lips,  so 
that  after  a  bit  as  I  stood  hesitating  by  the  door, 
she  grew  quieter,  and  lay  very  still,  gathering 
strength  and  breath. 

"Just  a  moment  more,  Elise!"  she  whispered, 
"  un  petit  instant ! "  And  the  young  woman,  with 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    297 

a  warning  glance  toward  me,  went  out  again  and 
closed  the  door  behind  her. 

"  I  must  go,  Colette,"  said  I.  "  You  're  far  too 
tired  to  talk.  I  '11  come  again,  often.  I  must  go 
now." 

But  she  shook  her  head.  "  Too — late — M'sieur ! " 
she  whispered.  Then  after  a  moment, 

"  Monsieur  would  you — would  you  be  willing — if 

St.  Denis  were  here  he  would  do  it — would  you ?  " 

She  held  up  her  white  frail  arms  a  little,  and  there 
was  an  eager,  wistful  smile  upon  her  lips.  I  knew 
what  she  would  ask. 

"  Ah,  child ! "  I  cried,  "  dear  child !  try  to  think 
I  'm  St.  Denis !  Shut  your  eyes  and  pretend  I  'm 
St.  Denis,  for  he  'd  do  as  I  'm  doing."  And  I  bent 
over  the  bed,  kneeling  beside  it,  and  slipped  my 
arms  under  her,  raising  her  so  that  I  held  her  close 
to  me.  And  I  kissed  her  lips  twice. 

"When  I  looked  back  from  the  door  she  lay  quite 
still  with  the  same  tender  smile  upon  her  lips  as 
when  she  had  sung  the  "little  chanson,  all  of 
love." 

"  I  will  come  back  to-morrow,  early,"  I  said,  out 
side,  to  the  young  woman. 

But  that  night  they  sent  me  word  that  she  had 
gone,  a  1'autre  cote,  very  suddenly,  and  quite  with 
out  pain — singing. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

I  CAME  in  from  poor  little  Colette's  funeral, 
sad  and  tired,  for  I  had  walked,  hat  in  hand, 
among  the  chief  mourners,  all  the  long  way  to 
the  cemetery.  At  the  logo  by  the  iron  gate  the 
concierge  told  me  that  M.  le  Colonel  waited  for  me 
in  the  studio. 

When  I  entered  I  thought  at  first  that  he  must 
have  wearied  of  waiting  and  gone  away.  Then, 
after  a  moment,  I  saw  him  sitting  by  Denis's  writing- 
table,  over  in  the  shadows,  at  the  far  side  of  the 
room.  His  head  was  in  his  arms  upon  the  table,  and 
he  was  quite  still. 

"  Yon  Altdorf ! "  said  I,  "  von  Altdorf !  "  but  he 
did  not  stir.  Then  I  went  across  the  room  and 
touched  him  upon  the  arm. 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  raised  a  face  that  I  did  not 
know. 

"  Why — why,  man,  what 's  happened  ?  "  I  cried  in 
alarm.  "What  are  you  looking  that  way  for? 
What  is  it,  I  say  ?  "  Then  my  eye  caught  a  crum 
pled  bit  of  paper  between  his  fists,  a  dispatch. 

"  You  Ve  news  ?  "  I  demanded,  "  bad  news  ?  from 
Novodnia  ?  from  the  Prince  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  Novodnia,"  said  Colonel  von  Alt- 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    299 

dorf  in  a  dull  tired  voice,  "  and  there 's  no  prince, 
either." 

I  think  I  stared  at  him  for  quite  a  minute.  Then 
I  went  over  to  the  little  cupboard  in  the  wall  and 
took  out  a  flask. 

"  Here ! "  said  I  soothingly,  "  you  drink  a  bit  of 
this,  and  then  we  '11  talk  it  over.  You  're  a  bit  fe 
verish.  You  do  n't  know  what  you  're  saying." 

But  von  Altdorf  pushed  away  the  flask. 

"  Would  you — like  to  see  it  ?  "  he  asked,  still  in 
the  strange  dull  tone,  and  offered  me  the  crumpled 
telegram.  It  was  a  senseless  jumble  of  words,  and 
I  threw  it  back  to  him  impatiently. 

"  I  can't  read  that,  man ! "  said  I,  "  write  it  out, 
or  else,  for  heaven's  sake,  tell  me  what  it  says.  If 
anything  has  happened,  tell  me !  "Wake  up ! " 

Colonel  von  Altdorf  settled  back  in  his  chair  with 
a  little  sigh,  and  twisted  the  sheets  of  paper  idly 
between  his  fingers.  He  seemed  in  a  kind  of  stupour 
quite  beyond  any  feeling. 

"  This,"  said  he  with  no  emotion  or  seeming  in 
terest  in  his  tone,  "  this  tells  of  things  that  must 
have  happened  two  days  ago.  It  was  sent,  not  from 
— from  Novodni,  but  Belgrade,  by  one  of — Czero- 
witz's  men.  Czerowitz  is  dead.  The  Prince  is — 
dead " 

"  Great  God ! "  I  cried  in  a  gasping  whisper. 
"  Dead  ?  dead  ?  the  Prince  ?  " 

"  Denis  Mallory  is  dead,"  continued  von  Alt 
dorf,  as  if  he  had  not  noticed  the  interruption. 


300    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"Georgias  and  his  forces  made  an  unexpected 
attack  upon  the  capital  after  a  night  march.  The 
garrison  turned  colour  and  joined  them,  even  the 
Life  Guards,  all  but  a  few.  The  Prince — the 
Prince  was  killed  upon  the  steps  of  the  Palace  sur 
rounded  by  a  dozen  officers  and  faithful  men,  Denis 
Mallory  among  them.  It  is  certain  that  the  Prince 
is  dead  and  that  Czerowitz  and  the  Marshal  are 
dead  also.  Denis  Mallory  fell  across  the  body  of 
the  Prince  whom  he  had  been  shielding.  A  young 
lieutenant  of  the  Guards  escaped  and  fled  to  Bel 
grade,  from  whence  he  sent  the  message  to  me,  but 
— but  not  before  he  had  learned  that  Georgias's 
movement  had  been  inspired  and  in  part  directed 
and  provisioned  by — the  White  Throne,  and  that 
Novodnia  is  to  be — to  be  wiped  off  the  map — in 
cluded  within  the  Bulgarian  boundaries.  There  is 
no  more  Novodnia.  It's  a  Bulgarian  province. — 
That — that  is — all."  And  he  sat  silent  once  more, 
crumpling  and  smoothing  the  bits  of  paper  between 
his  hands,  staring  at  the  tapestried  walls  across  the 
room. 

I  suppose  it  was  quite  half  an  hour  before  either 
of  us  spoke  or  moved.  Then  at  last  I  rose,  taking 
a  long  deep  breath,  and  moved  once  or  twice  up 
and  down  the  room.  I  laid  a  hand  upon  von  Alt- 
dorf  s  shoulder,  and  shook  him  gently  till  he  raised 
his  head. 

"  Come !  "  said  I.  "  Come !  we  must  tell  his — 
we  must  tell  the  Princess." 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    301 

"  There  is  no  princess,"  muttered  von  Altdorf . 

"  She  must  always  be  the  Princess  to  us  !  "  said 
I.  "  Come,  man !  "  and  he  followed  me  quietly. 

At  the  foot  of  the  little  ladder  that  had  long 
since  been  set  for  our  convenience  at  the  studio 
window,  we  ran  upon  Sir  Gavin  MacKenzie.  Yon 
Altdorf  stood  by  while  I  told  him  swiftly  the  ter 
rible  news  which  the  dispatch  had  brought.  I  had 
never  seen  the  gruff  old  Scotsman  so  overcome. 

Then,  after  a  moment,  slowly  and  with  drooping 
heads,  we  went  up  through  the  garden  paths  to 
where  a  gleam  of  white  and  yellow  showed  the 
Princess  in  her  long  steamer  chair. 

She  must  have  seen  us  coming,  for  she  rose,  when 
we  were  still  at  some  distance,  and  stood  waiting, 
and  the  book  that  she  had  held  in  her  hands 
dropped  unnoticed  to  the  ground.  I  think  she  sus 
pected,  from  our  faces  and  our  bearing,  something 
of  what  we  would  tell,  for  her  own  face  went  a 
little  pale  and  her  eyes  grew  wide  and  frightened. 

So  we  came  to  where  she  waited,  and  stood 
before  her,  bowed  and  silent,  dreading  to  speak  the 
first  word. 

But  the  Princess  put  out  a  hand  and  touched  me, 
looking  into  my  face  with  those  wide  frightened 


"  Why — why  gentlemen !  "  she  faltered.  "  What  is 
it  ? — What  is  it  you  would  say  ?  Colonel !  Sir  Gavin ! 
— Why,  Mr.  Creighton  !  Tell  me,  please !  It 's — bad 
news  of — of  course — from — ISTovodnia  ?  Tell  me, 


302    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

please,  quickly  !  See,  I  'm  quite,  quite  calm  !  I 
can — bear  anything.  Do  n't  try  to  break  it  to  me 
gently.  Tell  me  at  once.  He  is — he  is — dead  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Madame ! "  said  I,  "  the  Novodnian  hopes 
have  been  crushed  utterly — beyond  retrieving. 
There  has  been  an  attack  upon — upon  the  Palace, 
and  the  Prince  your  husband — the  Prince  your 
husband  is — dead." 

"  But  he  f  "  demanded  the  Princess  Eleanor 
swiftly,  her  voice  rising  to  a  hoarse  cry,  "  but  he  f 
What  of  him  f  "  And  then  all  at  once  she  be 
thought  herself  and  shrank  back,  catching  her 
hands  to  her  mouth. 

"  Madame,"  said  I,  "  the  bravest  gentleman  and 
faithfulest  friend  in  all  the  world  is  said  to  have 
died  also,  fighting  to  the  last  for  the  Prince,  your 
husband." 

Then  I  went  on,  gently  as  I  might,  to  tell  her  all 
we  knew  of  the  tragedy  that  had  swept  so  sud 
denly  across  the  high  hopes  and  brave  plans  of  the 
gentlemen  who  fought  for  Novodnia's  independence, 
but  I  do  not  think  the  Princess  heard  any  word  of 
it  all.  She  had  sunk  back  into  her  chair  again  and 
sat  quite  still,  her  hands  covering  her  face. 

Then  after  a  long  time,  while  we  stood,  silent 
and  awkward,  not  daring  to  speak  to  her,  power 
less  to  utter  any  word  of  poor  comfort,  she  looked 
up  once  more.  Her  face  was  perfectly  calm,  un 
naturally  calm,  with  no  trace  of  emotion — as  von 
Altdorf 's  had  been. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    303 

"  I  thank  you,  gentlemen,"  said  she,  "  for  telling 
me — the  truth  with  no  hesitation,  no  foolish  at 
tempts  to  make  it  light.  I — can  say  nothing  just 
now.  I  must — have  time  to  think.  "Will  you  leave 
me  for  a  little? — Oh,  Colonel  von  Altdorf,  that 
Fate,  of  which  you  preach,  has  played  her  last  card, 
hasn't  she? — I  wonder — I  wonder  if  she's  laugh 
ing. — Ah,  go,  please,  go ! "  And  we  left  her  there 
under  the  trees,  the  sweet,  warm  sunlight  slanting 
through  the  leaves  in  golden  splashes  about  her, 
the  heavy  perfume  of  flowers  filling  all  the  air, 
birds  twittering  cheerily  from  the  branches  over 
head,  and  even — to  complete  the  irony — a  snatch 
of  bright,  gay  music  coming  from  a  barrel  organ  in 
the  street  beyond  the  high  wall.  I  remember  the 
music,  it  was  an  air  from  "  Mignon." 

"We  went  down  through  the  garden  to  the  studio, 
and — Colonel  von  Altdorf  having,  by  this  time, 
come  quite  to  himself  again — we  talked  till  the  day 
was  gone  of  the  terrible  thing  which  had  all  in  a 
moment  wrecked  our  every  plan  and  hope,  and  had 
cut  the  very  ground  from  under  our  feet. 

The  chief  problem  was,  of  course,  what  was  to 
become  of  the  Princess  Eleanor — for  we  still  thought 
of  and  spoke  of  her  as  "  the  Princess,"  though  she 
had  no  right  to  the  title.  To  have  called  her  any 
thing  else  must  have  seemed  a  sort  of  unwarrantable 
liberty,  an  impertinence.  The  most  natural  event 
seemed  to  be  that  she  should  go  back  to  her  people 
in  America,  for  there  was  now  nothing  to  keep  her 


304    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

in  Europe.  The  Prince  was  dead,  his  country  was 
as  if  it  had  never  existed  as  a  body  politic.  She 
had  no  place  here. 

So  at  least  it  seemed  to  us,  as  we  sat  talking  the 
matter  over,  and  we  agreed  that  after  a  little  delay, 
when  the  horror  and  shock  should  have  in  some 
measure  passed,  we  would  put  the  thing  to  her 
judgment  and  advise  her  to  return  home. 

Then  after  a  bit  we  fell,  most  naturally,  to  talking 
of  Denis  Mallory,  in  hushed  gentle  voices,  as  of  a 
great  man  gone  to  his  last  rest ;  to  reminding  each 
other  of  all  the  things  which  had  happened  since 
that  first  evening  at  the  Cafe  d'Alen9on,  of  his  say 
ings  and  deeds,  of  what  seemed  to  us  the  matchless 
nobility  of  the  man,  and  of  our  bitter  shame  that 
we  should  so  have  misjudged,  so  have  slighted  him, 
at  the  first.  We  tried  to  picture  that  gallant  fight 
on  the  steps  of  the  palace  where  he  had  met  his 
death.  We  tried  to  picture  his  bearing  in  the  face 
of  that  certain  disaster — the  paltry  dozen  brave 
spirits  grouped  there  on  the  steps  high  over  a  snarl 
ing  mob.  Gallant  it  must  have  been.  Ah,  there 
was  no  doubt  of  that !  smiling,  probably.  That 
would  have  been  like  him,  smiling  derisively  down 
into  the  sea  of  faces  while  he  drew  his  blade  for  its 
last  grand  play.  Close  beside  his  prince,  aye,  that 's 
where  he  would  have  been,  close  beside  or  before 
him,  covering  his  body  with  a  marvellous  swords 
manship  that  must  have  made  those  southern  dogs 
gape  and  stare. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    305 

And  then,  then  when  Karl,  poor  gentleman,  was 
at  last  down,  when  Czerowitz  was  down  and  the 
old  Marshal — for  one  felt  that  Denis  would  be  the 
last — then,  one  pictured  him,  smiling  still  over  a 
dozen  wounds,  that  proud  head  high  and  defiant, 
one  pictured  him  falling  as  a  king  of  old  time,  mag 
nificently,  with  none  of  the  misery  of  defeat,  grand 
in  his  very  ruin. 

So  we  talked  together  and  wove  our  fancies  and 
sang  our  valedictory  to  the  man  we  loved,  till  the 
daylight  faded  to  the  dusk  and  dusk  gloomed  to 
night.  And  at  last  old  MacKenzie  and  Colonel  von 
Altdorf  rose  sighing  and  went  to  their  homes. 

"He  was  the  best  that  the  good  God  makes," 
said  old  Sir  Gavin  gruffly.  "  We  '11  no  see  another 
such  in  the  world." 

""We  all  refused,  once,  to  take  his  hand,"  said 
von  Altdorf.  "  "We  should  pay  well  for  that  in  the 
next  world." 

"  I  've  paid  well  for  it  in  this  one,"  said  I,  and  I 
took  to  my  bed  the  heaviest  heart  that  can  burden 
a  man's  breast. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

WAITING  again,  waiting,  for  what  we 
knew  not,  save  that  the  habit  of  inaction 
seemed  to  have  fastened  upon  us,  leaving 
us  idle  while  the  days  dragged  interminably  by. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  reaction  from  our  time  of  stress 
and  excitement,  perhaps  it  was  a  sort  of  maze,  a 
stupour  following  upon  the  sudden  upsetting,  in  so 
tragic  a  manner,  our  carefully  laid  plans  and  confi 
dent  expectations.  I  know  that  we  all  went  about 
dully,  taking  little  interest  in  what  we  did,  and  that 
the  future  seemed  hung  with  a  curtain  which  we 
dared  not,  or  lacked  the  energy  to,  pull  aside. 

We  spoke  to  the  Princess  Eleanor  of  our  discus 
sion  relative  to  her  prospective  movements,  and 
urged  her  return  to  America  where  she  might, 
among  her  old  friends  and  associations,  the  sooner 
rid  herself  of  the  pall  of  tragedy  and  ill  fortune 
which  had  so  weighed  her  down,  but  the  Princess, 
like  us  all,  seemed  strangely  apathetic  and  unwill 
ing  to  bestir  herself.  She  put  us  off  with  promises 
to  think  of  the  matter  soon,  to  wait  till  she  was 
fully  rested,  that  she  was  not  yet  prepared  to  move. 
Meanwhile  I  met  her  often,  as  before,  in  the 
garden,  and  we  talked  together  of  the  past,  and  of 
the  fuller  news  that  came  to  Colonel  von  Altdorf 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    307 

day  by  day  in  dispatches  or  letters,  bearing  upon 
the  conditions  in  what  had  been  Novodnia. 

The  late  Prince,  we  learned,  had  been  quietly  in 
terred  among  his  fathers  in  the  great  cathedral  at 
Novodni.  This  was  done  partly  by  orders  from  the 
"White  Throne,  partly  because  the  Novodnians,  so 
bered  after  their  debauch  of  rioting  and  bloodshed, 
desired  that  their  late  ruler  should  rest  befittingly 
and  in  dignity. 

Of  Denis  Mallory  we  learned  nothing  more.  The 
disturbed  conditions  in  the  capital  made  any  careful 
investigation  impossible.  Indeed  all  our  news  came 
piecemeal  from  Belgrade  whither  the  few  faithful 
souls  left  alive  had  fled  for  safety.  It  seemed  that 
he  must  have  been  buried  along  with  the  other 
victims  of  that  cowardly  attack  in  some  unmarked 
grave  which  no  one  might,  later,  be  able  to  point 
out.  Ah  well,  it  was  a  soldier's  grave,  dignified  by 
what  rested  within  it.  It  was  such  as  he  would 
have  chosen,  I  think.  His  monument  lay  in  a  few 
hearts  and  memories.  I  fancy  we  all  envied  him  a 
little. 

As  for  the  puppet  leader  of  the  uprising,  the  tool 
of  an  ill-concealed  hand,  he  was,  so  we  learned,  in 
Moscow,  ostensibly  in  consultation  with  the  force 
that  had  raised  and  directed  him,  actually  a  pris 
oner,  held  in  safe  view  till  all  danger  from  him 
should  be  at  an  end,  till  Novodnia  should  be  se 
curely  established  as  a  nameless  province  of  her 
greater  sister  state. 


308    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Of  all  these  matters  we  talked  at  length,  the 
Princess  Eleanor  and  I,  sitting  or  walking  in  the 
old  garden,  but  still  the  Princess  would  speak  no 
word  of  Denis  Mallory,  only  listened  with  averted 
face  when  I  talked  of  him,  save  that  one  day — 
it  was  when  we  learned,  through  dispatches  to 
Colonel  von  Altdorf,  that  nothing  more  was  known 
of  him,  that  he  must  have  been  obscurely  buried 
with  the  others ;  and  I  brought  her  this  news, 
blurting  it  out  baldly  with  no  comment — she  looked 
up  at  me  for  an  instant  and  her  lips  quivered. 

"  Now  God  rest  his  soul,  Mr.  Creighton,"  said 
she.  "  God  give  him  in  the  next  world  what  he 
never  found  in  this,  peace  and  happiness ! " 

"  I  think  he  found  a  certain  happiness,  Madame," 
said  I,  sadly.  "  It  was  in  serving  you,  making  sac 
rifices  for  you,  fighting  for  you.  Peace  of  soul  he 
might  not  find.  Aye,  God  grant  it  to  him  where 
he  is  now !  Still  I  think  he  found  happiness — all 
he  dared  hope  for." 

"  God  rest  his  soul,"  said  the  Princess  Eleanor 
again  very  low. 

It  was  upon  one  of  these  days  when  we  sat  under 
the  great  trees  where  the  Princess'  chair  was 
placed  each  morning  for  her — she  would  never 
sit  upon  the  old  stone  bench,  nor,  if  she  could  help 
it,  pass  near  it — that  we  saw,  coming  down  one  of 
the  paths  from  the  house,  Colonel  von  Altdorf  and 
Miss  Jessica  Mannering.  Miss  Mannering  appeared 
to  be  much  absorbed  in  the  splendours  of  a  very 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    309 

handsome  ring  set  with  a  sapphire  between  two 
diamonds.  This  ring  encircled  the  third  finger  of 
her  left  hand,  and  Miss  Mannering  held  the  hand 
out  before  her  at  various  angles,  watching,  with 
little  murmurs  of  delight,  the  flashes  evoked  from 
the  stones  by  the  sunlight  that  filtered  through  the 
leaves  high  overhead.  The  murmurs  of  delight  she 
occasionally  varied  by  little  snatches  of  song — of 
a  sentimental  character — and  honestly  compels  me 
to  add  that  her  right  hand  rested  confidingly  upon 
the  manly  shoulder  of  Colonel  von  Altdorf,  whose 
smile- wreathed  countenance  presented  that  picture 
of  utter  imbecility  commonly  portrayed  by  middle- 
aged  men  in  like  circumstances. 

They  did  not  see  us  until  they  had  come  very  near, 
then  a  smothered  laugh  from  the  Princess  Eleanor 
brought  them  suddenly  and  cruelly  to  the  bitter 
realities  of  life.  Miss  Jessica  Mannering  gave  a 
little  cry  of  dismay,  and  the  hand  that  had  rested 
upon  Colonel  von  Altdorf's  shoulder  was  with 
drawn  with  some  haste,  while  the  other  one,  the 
one  bearing  the  very  handsome  ring  upon  its  third 
finger,  sought  a  prompt  retreat  behind  her  back. 
As  for  Colonel  von  Altdorf,  his  expansive  smile 
froze  swiftly  into  a  look  of  the  most  alarming 
horror. 

But  the  Princess  went  up  to  her  cousin  and  took 
her  into  her  arms,  laughing  still,  and  kissed  her  a 
great  many  times,  and  cried  : 

"You  silly  little  goose!    did  you  suppose  we 


310    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

had  n't  known  all  about  it  for  weeks  ?  People  in 
your  state  of  mind  always  seem  to  think  every  one 

else  is  blind  and  deaf Oh,  Jess,  Jess  darling, 

you  must  be  so  happy !  It 's  only  insulting  of  me  to 
hope  you  '11  always  be  so !  "  And  being  women, 
with  women's  strange  ways,  they  wept  a  little  upon 
each  other's  shoulders — by  way  of  exhibiting  their 
pleasure — while  I  was  pumping  at  von  Altdorf's 
arms,  and  demanding  how  he  had  ever  dared  to 
do  it. 

But  after  the  lovers  had  gone  away,  with  their 
smiles  and  their  glad  eyes,  down  among  the  trees 
and  shrubs,  the  Princess  Eleanor  sat  for  a  long 
time  with  her  hands  over  her  face,  and  her  lips 
quivered  a  little  when  she  bade  me  adieu.  Poor 
lady  !  her  desolate  plight  must  have  come  in  upon 
her  most  sorely  when  she  saw  the  happy  love  light 
in  other  eyes. 

As  for  me,  back  once  more  in  the  studio,  I  stood 
staring  helplessly  at  the  table  where  the  afternoon 
mail  lay  spread,  and  rubbed  my  eyes  and  stared 
again,  thinking  I  must  be  a  little  mad,  and  took  a 
turn  up  and  down  the  room  frowning  fiercely  at 
the  strange  trick  that  my  eyes  were  playing  me. 
For  this  letter,  in  the  grey  square  envelope  with  a 
Servian  stamp,  would  seem  to  be  addressed  in  a 
queer,  sprawling,  unlovely  hand  that  I  knew  as  I 
knew  my  own.  Of  course,  said  I,  nervously,  it  was 
only  a  trick  that  my  eyes  played  me.  The  thing 
was  manifestly  impossible,  yet — I  forced  myself 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES     311 

out  of  the  fit  of  mingled  fear  and  dread  and — 
something  else.  I  called  a  semblance  of  steadiness 
to  shaking  hands,  and  tore  open  the  square  grey 
envelope.  I  took  one  look  at  the  letter's  heading, 
and  then  I  dropped  into  a  chair  that  stood  by  the 
table  and  laid  my  head  down  upon  my  arms  and 
fell  to  sobbing  like  any  woman. 

But  this  is  what  I  read,  when  after  a  little,  I  had 
pulled  myself  together,  and  was  able  to  hold  the 
written  sheets  before  my  eyes. 

"  BELGRADE,  June  the  fifth. 
"  DEAR  OLD  LAD  : 

"  Did  it  make  you  jump  to  see  my  ugly 
scrawl  again?  Faith,  it's  uglier  than  ever,  just 
now,  for  I  'm  not  very  strong  yet.  But  you  '11  not 
mind  if  my  pen  does  prance  all  over  the  page,  as  it 
has  a  queer  way  of  doing — all  on  its  own  responsi 
bility.  You'll  have  had  me  under  the  sod  long 
since,  won't  you,  lad,  you  and  von  Altdorf  and  old 
MacKenzie  ?  But  you  can't  lose  a  bad  penny.  It 
always  turns  up.  And  so  I  've  turned  up,  much  the 
worse  for  wear,  Ted,  but  on  my  feet  again,  thanks 
to  some  good  people  here  who  took  me  in  when  I 
was  little  else  but  fragments  of  a  man  held  together 
by  my  clothes,  and  managed  somehow  to  stitch 
the  fragments  together. 

"  You  '11  have  heard  all  that  I  'd  tell  you  of  what 
happened  a  month  since,  how  those  cursed  dogs  did 
for  the  Prince — God  rest  his  soul ! — and  how  No- 
vodnia  is  Novodnia  no  more — and  well  served,  too, 
for  breeding  such  swine  ! 

"  Ah,  but  there 's  one  thing  I  can  tell  that  may 
be  news  to  you,  Teddy  lad.  Our  old  friend  von 


312    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

Steinbriicke  turned  up  here — I  would  say  there,  in 
Novodni — and  took  another  hand  in  things.  So 
you  did  n't  finish  him  after  all,  though,  by  my  faith, 
you  left  him  a  remembrance !  The  man  wore  a 
great  bandage  about  his  neck  to  the  moment  he 
died — for  he  did  die  at  the  last,  but  that  comes  later 
— and  they  said  your  point  must  have  cut  his  palate 
or  the  root  of  his  tongue,  for  he  couldn't  talk, 
only  made  queer  beast  noises.  Oh,  yes,  Steinbriicke 
paid  up ! 

"But  ah,  Teddy,  Teddy,  when  I  fall  to  thinking 
of  those  curs  of  Novodnians  and  of  what  they  did, 
I  see  scarlet.  I  've  fought,  as  you  know,  in  many 
queer  corners  of  the  earth,  and  I  've  seen  my  share 
of  blood  and  cruelty.  I  've  seen  those  Latin  Ameri 
cans  mob  a  president  whom  they  did  n't  fancy — but 
he  generally  deserved  it.  I  've  seen  Chinese  drag  a 
foreigner  out  of  his  house  and  tear  him  to  bits — but 
they  thought  they  had  reasons.  He  was  an  enemy. 
What  I  'd  never  seen  before  was  a  man's  own  friends 
desert  him,  go  over  to  the  enemy,  shoot  him,  stone 
him,  not  because  they  'd  anything  against  him,  but 
because  it  was  plain  that  the  enemy  must  win,  any 
how,  and  they  wanted  to  be  on  the  safe  side.  Sheer 
cowardice,  Ted,  but  such  contemptible  cowardice ! 

"  Aye,  they  outwitted  us,  George  and  his  crowd, 
though  they  did  it  through  the  treachery  of  our 
own  men.  They  made  a  forced  march  one  night, 
and  in  the  morning  they  were  in  Novodni.  The 
garrison  had  surrendered  with  never  a  shot  fired  1 
They  came  swarming  and  hooting  about  the  Palace, 
soldiers  and  civilians,  men,  women  and  children, 
calling  for  the  Prince,  and  oh,  lad,  lad,  the  Life 
Guards  ran  out  of  their  barracks,  down  by  the 
Palace  gate,  and  joined  them  !  The  Life  Guards ! 
"Why  Prince  Karl  knew  personally  every  man  in  the 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    313 

regiment,  helped  them  out  of  their  little  scrapes, 
gave  them  wedding  presents,  stood  godfather  for 
their  brats !  Ah,  that  was  the  bitterest  part  of  it 
all !  We  knew  the  thing  was  all  over,  then,  but  the 
Prince  would  go  out  on  the  steps  of  the  Palace 
and  try  to  speak,  and  we  went  with  him,  a  dozen  of 
us. —  i  ou  know  what  happened.  The  mob  came  up 
at  us,  a  great  wave  of  them  and  we  lasted  only  a 
few  moments.  The  Prince  would  n't  lift  a  hand. 
He  had  no  weapon,  but  stood  there,  bareheaded, 
hands  clasped  before  him,  till  a  bullet  from  below 
finished  him.  Thank  God,  he  died  before  they  got 
their  hands  upon  him,  for  we  had  been  holding 
them  off  with  our  pistols  and  swords  till  they  finally 
trampled  us  under.  And  here 's  where  von  Stein- 
brticke  comes  in.  He  was  at  the  very  head  of  the 
mob  as  it  came  up  the  steps.  Gad,  he  was  fairly 
frothing  at  the  mouth  to  get  revenge  for  that 
bandaged  neck  of  his.  Some  one  else  engaged  him 
first,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  him  for  a  few  seconds, 
for  I  was,  as  you  may  say,  busy.  But  directly, 
he  whirled  about,  just  before  me,  with  a  sort  of 
snarl,  and  made  at  the  Prince. — Oh  well,  I  won't 
dwell  on  it.  I  finished  your  work,  Ted,  and  then 
somebody  caught  me  a  knock  over  the  crown,  and 
I  dropped  upon  the  Prince's  body.  He'd  been 
done  for  while  I  spitted  von  Steinbriicke. 

"  Well,  they  looted  the  Palace  and  finally  went 
away — to  burn  some  public  buildings  I  believe — 
leaving  the  little  heap  of  us  lying  on  the  steps.  It 
seems  that  some  well-meaning  but  not  over-brave 
souls  picked  us  up,  and  finding  one  or  two  not  quite 
done  for,  shipped  us  off  to  Belgrade  along  with 
several  train  loads  of  refugees,  the  decenter  sort 
who  wouldn't  stay  in  the  capital  to  see  it  burnt 
and  looted. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

"So  here  I  am,  old  lad,  whole  again — though 
precious  flimsy — a  plank  from  the  wreck,  and  feel 
ing  mighty  little  of  a  hero.  For  I  'm  the  chap  who 
would  have  set  Her  and  her  husband  firm  on  their 
throne,  and  then  made  an  end  of  myself.  But  her 
husband 's  dead  and  the  throne  no  longer  stands. 
So  I  've  failed  all  around. 

"  Does  von  Altdorf  still  talk  of  his  Fate  ?  What 
a  hand  she  played,  Teddy  boy ! — I  've  come  into 
a  fortune,  lad — and  there 's  a  bit  of  irony  for  you  ! 
— It  seems  that  my  old  Uncle  John,  who  hated  me 
as  he  hated  nothing  else  in  all  the  world,  the  devil 
included,  got  rolled  out  in  the  hunting-field  about 
the  time  that  I  was  so  nearly  done  for,  and,  leaving 
no  will,  his  property  comes  down  to  me  as  next  of 
kin.  The  solicitors  appear  to  have  seen  my  name 
in  the  papers  as  being  in  this  row  down  here,  and 
so  wrote  to  me  at  Novodni,  the  letter  coming  on  to 
Belgrade.  Ah  well,  the  saints  give  him  peace ! — 
meaning  thereby  a  good  horse,  a  pack  of  hounds 
and  plenty  of  celestial  foxes,  with  right  of  way 
through  the  Elysian  fields.  But  for  one  thing,  lad, 
I  'd  settle  down  now,  on  the  old  gentleman's  money, 
and  quit  this  vagabond  soldiering.  But  the  one 
thing  is  the  only  thing,  Teddy,  so  no  quiet  life  for 
me.  I  've  a  certain  duty  left  to  perform,  a  trust. 
Then,  when  that 's  over  with,  off  for  more  fighting  ! 
Better  luck  this  time,  maybe.  There 's  good  work 
forward  in  the  Transvaal,  and  the  Cape  Mounted 
Police  know  me  of  old. — They  've  jolly  good  reason 

to They '11  give  me  a  billet  right  enough.  But 

first  for  my  trust.  I  must  come  on  to  Paris  and 
give  the  Princess  Eleanor  the  last  news  of  her  hus 
band.  I've  certain  little  things  to  place  in  her 
hands,  keepsakes,  a  lock  of  hair,  a  ring  or  two,  a 
locket  the  Prince  gave  into  my  care  when  he  knew 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    315 

that  he  must  die,  and  begged  me  to  give  to  her, 
should  I  by  any  chance  come  through  the  affair  alive. 
"So  I  shall  see  you  again,  after  all,  dear  lad. 
Ah,  it  will  be  good  to  have  a  grip  at  your  hand 
once  more !  And  at  von  Altdorf  s  and  Sir  Gavin's ! 
I  shall  be  there  not  long  after  you  get  this,  a  day 
or  two,  maybe.  Tell  them  I'm  coming  and  be 
looking  out  for  me. 

"  Till  then,  lad, 

"Faithfully, 

"DENIS  MALLOBY." 

I  do  not  know  how  many  times  I  read  this,  and 
read  it  over  again,  sitting  there  by  his  old  writing- 
table  in  the  studio.  I  know  that  my  heart  was 
pounding  at  something  like  twice  its  normal  speed, 
that  I  wanted  to  sing  and  dance  about  the  place,  to 
rush  out  into  the  street  and  shout  aloud  to  every 
one  that  Denis  was  n't  dead  at  all,  but  alive — alive 
and  almost  well,  that  we  were  going  to  see  him, 
hear  his  dear  old  voice  again,  watch  his  whimsical 
little  smile,  feel  his  good  hand-grip !  Oh,  I  had 
quite  an  exciting  little  time,  all  by  myself,  there  in 
the  studio. 

Then  suddenly  I  thought  of  something,  and  made 
a  dash  for  the  window  that  gave  upon  the  garden. 
I  vaulted  the  bar,  in  scorn  of  such  trifles  as  ladders, 
and  ran  up  through  the  trees.  Yes,  she  was  still 
there.  I  saw  the  white  gleam  of  her  gown  through 
the  shrubbery. 

Poor  lady !  she  must  have  thought  me  mad — as 
indeed,  I  very  nearly  was — for  I  burst  upon  her, 


316    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

breathless,  and,  I  doubt  not,  capering,  and  waved 
the  crumpled  sheets  of  the  letter  over  my  head. 

"  He  's  not  dead,  Madame ! "  I  cried.  "  He 's  not 
dead  at  all !  Do  you  hear  ?  He 's  alive !  He  is 

coming  to  Paris They  nearly  did  for  him, 

but  he  lived  through  it.  I  tell  you  he 's  alive  !  " 

The  Princess  did  not  cry  out  nor  turn  pale  nor 
make  any  show  of  excitement,  only  her  eyes,  when 
after  a  moment  she  understood  what  I  would  say, 
went  slowly  very  wide  with  a  certain  eager  bright 
ness,  and  she  held  out  a  hand  that  shook  a  little,  for 
the  letter. 

But  I,  dropping  the  letter  into  her  lap,  rushed 
madly  on  up  to  the  house,  in  hope  of  finding  Sir 
Gavin  there,  or  perhaps  von  Altdorf  or  Miss  Man- 
nering,  for  I  wanted  every  one  to  know  the  won 
derful  news.  I  wanted  to  see  their  faces  when  they 
heard  for  the  first  time  that  the  man  we  loved  was 
still  alive. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

IT  was  two  days  later,  and  I  sat  in  the  studio 
trying  to  write  letters  which  should  have  been 
written  months  since,  but  my  pen  had  a  trick 
of  hanging  idle  over  the  page  till  the  ink  dried  upon 
it,  or  of  trailing  off  in  the  middle  of  a  word,  into  an 
illegible  scrawl,  while  my  eyes  stared,  unseeing,  be 
yond  the  table  and  the  studio  walls,  and  an  errant 
fancy  wandered  over  the  map  of  Europe  between 
Paris  and  far  off  Belgrade. 

"Where  would  he  be  now  ?  Had  he  left  Belgrade  ? 
"Was  he  sitting  behind  a  Neue  Freie  Presse  in  the 
Orient  Express,  counting  the  hours  to  Paris  ?  "Why 
the  devil  did  n't  he  telegraph  or  something  ? 

So  the  letters  made  but  poor  progress,  and  at  last 
I  threw  down  my  pen  in  disgust,  and  fell  to  pacing 
the  room  like  a  tiger  in  its  cage. 

"  I  '11  go  over  to  the  house,"  said  I  at  last.  "  They 
may  have  heard  something  since  I  saw  them  this 
morning."  I  let  myself  out  of  the  window  and  went 
up  through  the  garden. 

But,  half  way  to  the  house,  a  hurrying  servant 
ran  me  down.  M.  Mallory  had  arrived.  M.  le 
Colonel  said  to  come  at  once !  And  I  gave  a  great 
shout  of  delight  and  broke  into  a  run.  . 

Near  the  house  I  met  the  Princess  Eleanor  who 


318    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

was  coming  out.  She  was  a  bit  flushed  as  to  the 
cheeks,  a  bit  bright  as  to  the  eyes. 

"  Will  you "  she  said,  "  will  you  tell  Mr. — 

Mallory  that  when  he  wishes  to— to  deliver  his  mes 
sages  to  me,  I  shall  be  in  the  garden  ?  " 

"Why,  yes!"  I  cried.  "Yes,  gladly!— Ah,  be 
kind  to  him,  Princess,  he 's  done  much  for  your 
sake ! — Where  shall  I  say  that  you  will  be  ?  Where 
in  the  garden  ?  " 

"  Say  that  I  shall  be  at  the  old  stone  bench,"  said 
the  Princess  Eleanor,  moving  past  me  with  her  head 
turned  away.  And  I  ran  on. 

Under  the  porch  of  the  refectory,  I  paused  an  in 
stant.  The  doors  beyond  were  open  to  the  sweet 
summer  air,  and  through  them  there  came  the  hum 
of  conversation  in  many  voices,  but  presently,  over 
the  chorus  of  questions,  of  little  cries  and  exclama 
tions,  his  good  old  laugh!  strong  and  deep  and 
cheery  as  ever.  Lord,  how  it  made  my  heart  jump ! 

He  was  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  music-room, 
Sir  Gavin  and  von  Altdorf  and  Miss  Jessica  Man- 
nering  pressing  close  about  him,  and  half  a  dozen 
servants  hovering  near. 

The  past  month  had  left  its  marks  upon  him,  for 
he  was  very  pale  and  thin  and  hollow-eyed,  and  he 
bore  across  the  left  cheek  bone  a  long  scar  as  from 
a  sabre  cut. 

He  heard  my  step  at  the  door  and  turned 
about. 

"  It 's  Teddy  I "  he  cried,  and  came  over  to  me 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    319 

STfif tly,  and  caught  me  about  the  shoulders,  shaking 
me  back  and  forth. 

"Why,  lad,  lad!"  said  he,  "dear  old  lad!"  and 
seized  upon  my  two  hands,  nearly  crushing  them  in 
his  grip.  Upon  my  word,  he  had  strength  left  in 
him  for  all  his  white,  thin  cheeks ! 

"  She 's  waiting  for  you  in  the  garden,  Denis,"  I 
whispered,  "at  the  old  stone  bench."  And  then, 
directly,  I  was  almost  sorry  I  had  spoken,  for  all  the 
bright,  cheery  gladness  left  his  face  quite  suddenly, 
and  it  took  on  that  old  look  of  pain  and  hopelessness 
that  I  had  grown  to  know  so  well  before  he  went 
away. 

"  Why  yes,  lad,"  said  he,  "  yes,  I  must  go,  must  n't 
I?" 

He  turned  about  to  the  others  talking  and  laugh 
ing  in  a  little  group. 

"I  must  bear  my  message  to  the  Princess,  if 
you  '11  all  excuse  me  for  a  bit,"  he  said.  "  I  shall 
be  back  in  half  an  hour."  And  he  left  the  room 
with  a  slow,  lingering  step  as  if  he  dreaded  what 
was  before  him. 

He  went  out  under  the  old  Gothic  porch,  out  into 
the  cool  green  shade  of  the  garden,  where  flecks  of 
yellow  sunshine  wavered  about  his  feet,  as  the 
leaves  above  stirred  in  the  wind,  where  the  early 
roses  filled  all  the  air  with  scent,  and  birds  hopped 
along  the  margin  of  the  gravel  paths  hunting  for 
worms. 
I  He  went  down  under  the  prim  acacias,  down  the 


320    THE   GARDEN    OF    LIES 

centre  path  toward  the  fountain,  and  at  its  left, 
where  stood  the  old  stone  bench,  he  saw  a  glimmer 
of  something  white.  Then  in  a  moment  he  stood 
before  her,  head  bent. 

The  Princess  Eleanor  gave  a  little  low  cry  when 
she  saw  his  pallor  and  his  thin  face  and  the  scar 
across  one  cheek  bone,  and  she  put  out  a  hand  to 
him  timidly.  But  Denis  was  bowing  and  did  not 
see. 

"  "Will  you  not  sit  down,  sir  ?  "  she  begged,  and 
pulled  her  skirt  aside  to  make  room  for  him.  "  You 
are  not  yet  strong  enough  to  stand  long." 

"  Why — no,  Madame,"  he  began,  "  I — I  am  quite 

strong  I  assure  you Still — since  you  are  so 

good Yes,  I  will  sit  down  for  a  moment.  I 

have  something  to  give  to  you  and  something  to 
tell  you  of — of  the  Prince's  death." 

"  You — fought  beside  him,  they  tell  me,"  said  the 
Princess  Eleanor  with  lowered  eyes. 

"Aye,  Madame,"  said  he,  "I  stood  beside  him, 
sheltering  him  as  best  I  might,  till  he  died." 

"  He  died  nobly,"  murmured  the  Princess  with  a 
little  sigh. 

"He  died,  Madame,"  said  Denis  Mallory,  "he 
died  a  hero  and  a  martyr,  for  when  he  went  out 
upon  the  Palace  steps  he  knew  that  he  went  to  cer 
tain  death.  Yet  he  would  go  in  spite  of  us  all  who 
sought  to  save  him.  He  went  unarmed,  and  stood 
there,  facing  those  dogs  with  no  word  or  gesture, 
till  the  bullet  came.  But  before  he  went,  he  spoke 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    321 

to  me  of — you,  begged  me  to  come  to  you  if  I 
should  escape,  to  tell  you  that  he  died  as  you  would 
have  him  die,  and  that  his  last  thought  was  of  you. 
"When  I  begged  him  to  live  for  your  sake,  to  escape 
as  he  might  have  done,  he  only  shook  his  head. 

" '  She  M  despise  me  if  I  should  do  such  a  cow 
ardly  thing,'  he  said.  *  She  never  loved  me,  let  me 
win  her  honour  and  respect  by  dying  like  a  man.' 
And  he  gave  me  certain  little  things  that  he  kept 
by  him  always,  certain  trinkets,  keepsakes,  begging 
me  to  give  them  into  your  own  hands.  I — I  made 
a  little  packet  of  them.  Here  it  is." 

He  reached  his  hand  into  an  inner  pocket  and 
drew  out  a  small  box,  wrapped  with  paper,  which 
he  gave  to  the  Princess.  Something  else  that  had 
been  in  the  pocket  slipped  out  at  the  same  time, 
and  fell  to  the  ground.  It  seemed  to  be  a  little 
knot  of  ribbons,  pink,  but  covered  by  an  ugly  brown 
stain. 

The  Princess  Eleanor  laid  the  packet,  unopened, 
upon  her  lap  but  her  eyes  followed  the  knot  of  rib 
bons,  which  Denis  Mallory,  flushing  a  bit,  had 
quickly  picked  up  from  the  ground  and  put  away 
again  in  his  pocket. 

"  Why  that — what  is — what  is  that  ?  "  she  cried 
in  a  very  low  tone. 

"  A  mere  trifle,  Madame,"  said  he,  not  meeting 
her  eyes,  "  of — no  value — save  to  me." 

"  Will  you  let  me  see  it,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  Princess 
Eleanor  humbly. 

ai 


322    THE   GARDEN    OF    LIES 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  flashing  again,  but  the 
Princess  held  out  her  hand,  and  after  a  little  he  laid 
the  knot  of  ribbons  in  it. 

"A  knot  of  pink  ribbons?"  said  the  Princess 
Eleanor.  "  Only  a  knot  of  pink  ribbons  ?  It  is  a 
poor  thing  to  value,  sir,  yet  you  say  that  it  is  of 
value  to  you.  "Why  you  have  cared  for  your  treas 
ure  but  indifferently  !  See,  it  is  all  stained." 

"  They  are  honourable  stains,  Madame,"  said  Denis 
Mallory  coldly.  "I  am  not  ashamed  of  them." 
But  the  Princess  gave  a  sudden  cry  and  dropped 
the  knot  of  ribbons  from  her  hand.  Then  she 
caught  it  up  again,  as  quickly,  and  looked  up  at  him 
wide  eyed. 

"  You — you  mean,"  she  faltered,  "  they  're  blood 
stains  ?  Your  blood  ?  " 

"  It  can  be  of  no  interest  to  you,  Madame,"  said 
he.  "  I  am  sorry  that  the  thing  dropped  from  my 
pocket Will  you  give  me  my  knot  of  rib 
bons?" 

He  took  the  bit  of  stained  silk  from  her  hands, 
and  rose  to  his  feet,  bowing. 

"  And  now,  Madame,"  said  he,  "  I  have  performed 
my  last  service,  since  I  have  fulfilled  my  trust.  I 
will  intrude  upon  you  no  longer.  I  beg  your  per 
mission  to  go." 

"  Ah  no — no  ! "  she  cried,  turning  a  little  pale. 
"  But  no !  you — you  must  not  go,  yet.  There  is 
much  that  I  would  ask  you  of — of  the  Prince  I 
Must  I  beg  you  to  remain  ?  " 

V 


THE   GARDEN   OF   LIES   323 

"  "Why,  Madame,"  said  he,  "  I  am  altogether  at 
your  service.  I  shall  be  more  than  glad  to  tell  you 
all  I  know  of — the  Prince's  death.  I — I  feared  I 
was — unwelcome  when  once  my  mission  was  ful 
filled.  What  is  it  you  would  know  ?  " 

The  Princess  Eleanor  leaned  forward  a  little 
so  that  her  face  was  hidden.  She  seemed  not 
quite  at  her  ease,  not  quite  certain  as  to  her 
words. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  she,  "  of — of  yourself,  sir.  You 
speak  altogether  of  the  Prince,  poor  gentleman,  and 
of  his  death.  You  say  no  word  of  yourself.  "What 
are  you  going  to  do  now  that  the  war  is  over  in 
Nbvodnia  ? — Mr.  Oreighton  tells  me  that  you  were 
used  to  writing  for  the  press.  Will  you  go  back  to 
literary  labour  ?  " 

"  Why  as  for  that,  Madame,"  said  Denis  Mallory, 
"I  wrote  to  keep  body  and  soul  together  when 
there  was  no  fighting  to  be  done,  but  the  death  of 
an  old  uncle  has  put  me  beyond  want.  I  go  from 
here  to  South  Africa  where  there  is  war.  I  shall 
find  occupation  there." 

"But  your— friends,"  said  the  Princess,  "Mr. 
Creighton  and  Colonel  von  Altdorf  and  all  ?  Surely 
they  have  some  claim  upon  you  1  Surely  they  will 
not  let  you  leave  them  again  so  soon,  now  that  you 
may  live  where  you  will,  and  as  you  will." 

"  My  friends,  Madame,"  said  he,  "  will  never  at 
tempt  to  hold  me  here,  for  they  know  why  I  must 
go.  I  have  a  thing  to  do  which,  in  No vodnia,  I 


324    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

failed  in  doing — along  with  my  other  greater 
failure." 

The  Princess  shivered  a  little  for  she  knew  what 
the  thing  was. 

"And  there  is  nothing  then,  which  could  alter 
your  determination  ?  "  she  asked  presently.  "  Noth 
ing  which  would  keep  you  in  Paris  ?  " 

"  But  one  thing,  Madame,"  said  he,  "  and  that 
one  thing  I  may  never  hope  for." 

"Never?"  she  murmured,  her  head  still  bent 
away  from  him.  "  You  used  not  always  to  be  of  so 
hopeless  a  mind,  sir." 

Now  Denis  was  holding  himself  too  hard  in  hand, 
setting  too  fierce  a  curb  upon  speech  and  eye,  to 
realise  that  the  Princess  Eleanor's  manner  toward 
him  was  far  different  from  her  attitude  at  their  last 
meeting.  If  it  occurred  to  him  at  all,  he  doubtless 
thought  it  a  mere  natural  graciousness,  such  as  a 
woman  so  queenly  must  use  toward  the  meanest 
thing  that  approaches  her.  Still,  I  think  that  her 
softened  voice,  her  lack  of  outward  scorn  and  con 
tempt,  gave  him  a  certain  shred  of  courage. 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  moved  over  to  the  old 
fountain,  where  he  stood  some  time  with  his  back  to 
the  Princess,  frowning  down  upon  the  bubbling 
water,  clasping  and  unclasping  his  hands,  and  stir- 
ring  the  green  mold  with  a  thoughtful  foot. 

Then  all  at  once  he  drew  a  long  breath,  as  of  de 
cision,  and  turned  again  toward  the  Princess. 

"  Madame,"  said  he,  "  I  have  something  to  ask  of 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    325 

you,  to  beg  of  you  before  I  leave  Paris,  never  to 
return.  It  may  be  that  you  cannot  or  will  not 
grant  it,  and,  if  so — why  my  asking  will  have  been 
only  one  more  presumption,  one  more  impertinence. 
When  we — when  I  saw  you  last,  here  in  the  garden, 
I  told  you  that  I  should  ask  nothing  of  you,  not 
forgiveness,  not  pity,  but  when,  weeks  ago,  I  lay 
between  life  and  death,  and  did  not  know  if  I  should 
see  another  day  dawn,  it  came  to  me  that  I  could 
die  in  peace  if  only  I  had  your  forgiveness  for  the 
great  wrong  I  had  done  you ;  not  your  pity,  that 
were  beyond  reason  to  ask,  just  your  forgiveness. 

0  When  I  left  Paris  with  the  Prince,  it  was  in  my 
mind  to  serve  you  by  serving  him,  and  so  doing,  to 
lose  a  life  for  which  I  had  no  love.  But,  as  you 
know,  Madame,  I  failed,  for  I  did  you  no  service, 
alas,  and  I  am  still  alive.  It  seems  that  there  rests 
no  further  service  that  I  can  attempt  for  you,  and 
since  my  love  for  life  has  grown  not  at  all,  I  go  to 
Africa  to  lose  it  there.  Have  you  such  kindness  in 
your  heart,  Princess,  that  you  can  give  me  forgive 
ness  for  the  bitter  wrongs  I  did  you  ?  Can  you  set 
me  at  peace  ?  " 

The  Princess  Eleanor  rose  to  her  feet  before  him 
and  looked  into  his  eyes. 

"  Forgive  you  ?  "  she  cried  in  a  little  low  shaking 
voice.  "  Oh,  forgive  you  ?  It  is  I  who  should  go 
upon  my  knees  to  ask  your  forgiveness,  sir,  for  I 
think  no  man  has  ever  served  a  woman  so  faithfully 
or  at  such  cost,  asking  nothing  at  all  in  return. 


Forgive  you  ?  If  I  thought  I  could  make  you  forget 
the  terrible  things  I  said  to  you,  here  in  the  garden, 
if  I  thought  I  could  blot  that  whole  dreadful  scene 
utterly  from  your  memory,  I  should  be — why  I 
should  be  almost  happy !  Oh,  I  have  said  things 
to  you  that  no  man  could  ever  forget.  You  must 
be  the  one  to  forgive,  sir,  if  you  can  forgive." 

He  stared  at  her  for  a  long  time  in  a  trembling 
silence,  doubting  his  senses,  refusing  to  believe  that 
his  ears  heard  aright. 

"  But — but,  Madame,  the  great  wrong  I  did  you  I " 
he  whispered  finally,  "the  contemptible  trick  I 
played  upon  you  1  the  deception,  the  lying ! " 

"  You  did  it  for  my  own  sake,"  said  the  Princess 
Eleanor,  "to  save  my  life.  You  stooped  to  dis 
honour,  if  it  was  such,  for  me,  as  I  was  too  mad  to 
realise.  Ah,  I  do  n't  know  whether  it  was  right  or 
wrong  I  probably  I  shall  never  know,  but  I  'm  cer 
tain  that  it  was  noble  and  self-sacrificing  and  faith 
ful,  as  is  everything  you  have  done.  If  I  could  not 
feel  it  at  the  time,  why — I  think  I  was  a  little  mad, 
a  little  crazed  by  the  horror  of  it  all.  A  woman 
who  sees  her  life  in  fragments  about  her  feet,  is  not 
one  to  be  kind  and  just.  Ah,  but  I  have  had  time 
in  the  last  month  to  regret  most  bitterly  all  my  un 
gratefulness  and  brutality  and  blind  anger !  I  have 
had  time  to  see  things  as  they  truly  are,  to  realise 
that  no  woman  was  ever  so  faithfully  or  so  un- 
•elfishly  served  in  all  the  world. 

"  When  I  thought  you  were — you  were  dead,  in 


THE    GARDEN    OF   LIES    327 

my  service,  and  after  what  I  had  said  to  you,  I — I 
wonder  that  I  did  n't  die  myself !  Oh,  Denis, 
Denis  Mallory,  must  I  go  on  ?  Must  I  say  it  all  ? 
Will  you  give  me  no  help  ?  "  She  sank  back  again 
upon  the  old  stone  bench  covering  her  face  with 
her  hands,  and  her  little  ears  burned  crimson. 

But  Denis  Mallory,  on  his  knees  before  her, 
raised  shaking  hands  to  her  own  and  drew  them 
gently  away.  In  his  face  there  was  a  sort  of  pale 
wonder,  a  puzzled  unbelief,  but  his  eyes  were  wide 
and  bright  with  the  dawn  of  a  certain  great  passion 
of  joy. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Princess  Eleanor,  looking  bravely 
into  his  eyes.  "  Yes,  I  will  tell  the  truth.  I  've — 
loved  you  all  the  time,  every  moment  of  the  time  I 
It  was  because  I  loved  you  so  that  I  could  be  so 
bitter,  so  cruel  to  you."  She  paused,  smiling — that 
smile  that  is  close  to  tears — and  fell  to  stroking  his 
black  hair,  for  he  had  laid  his  head  upon  her  knees, 
face  downward,  and  his  shoulders  heaved. 

"  Oh ! "  she  cried  in  a  hushed  voice  that  trembled 
as  she  spoke.  "  If  you  were  not  the  Prince  nor  I 
the  Princess ! " 

His  head  came  up  in  a  flash  and  his  arms  went 
round  her  as  he  knelt  before  the  seat. 

"I  'm  not  the  Prince,"  said  Denis  Mallory,  with 
his  lips  against  a  very  small  ear. 

"  Ah,  no !  "  she  cried,  "  not  the  Prince !  only 
the  King  of  all  the  world  !  Let  me  look  into  your 
Majesty's  eyes  to  find  the  love  there,  and  your  Maj- 


328    THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES 

esty's  smile  to  see  how  bright  the  sun  shines! 
Have  you  lost  your  tongue,  Denis,  my  Denis  Mai- 
lory  ?  "  demanded  the  Princess,  "  for  this  will  never 
be  you  without  a  tongue !  Can  you  not  speak  ?  " 

"  Words  beggar  love,  my  sweet,"  said  he.  "  I  'm 
tongue-tied,  stunned  with  too  much  joy,  made  a 
little  mad  with  a  happiness  that  I  had  not  dreamed 
of  coming  to  me.  Is  it  really  I,  my  queen,  holding 
your  sweet  hands  here  in  Paradise  ?  Is  it  really 
you  who  lay  your  cheek  against  my  lips  and  look 
at  me  with  love  ?  Why,  no,  no !  it  can't  be !  It 's 
one  of  those  cursed  fever  dreams,  and  I  '11  wake 
soon  with  a  most  damnable  pain  in  the  shoulder  and 
head,  and  be  fed  something  from  a  bowl.  Why, 
no  1  I  'm  one  Denis  Mallory,  soldier  of  fortune, 
sometime  tavern  brawler  and  drunkard  !  This  will 
never  be  real.  It 's  a  fever  dream !  I  've  had  'em 
before." 

But  the  Princess  Eleanor  pulled  him  down  upon 
the  old  stone  bench  beside  her,  laughing  softly,  and 
laid  her  head  where — where  there  seemed  a  place 
made  especially  for  it. 

The  sweet  summer  air  stirred  the  leaves  over 
their  heads  and  quivered  the  splashes  of  sunshine 
that  lay  upon  the  green  mold  beneath.  It  brought 
up  to  them  the  scent  of  early  roses  and  mignonette 
from  the  flower  beds  under  the  studio  window. 
The  old  cracked  fountain  gurgled  and  laughed  with 
its  tiny  stream ;  and  from  over  the  high  street  wall 
came  the  tooting  of  a  tram  faint  and  far  away. 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES      329 

"  That  Fate,"  said  the  Princess,  stirring  her  head 
comfortably  where — where  it  seemed  to  belong, 
"  that  Fate  of  which  Colonel  von  Altdorf  was  wont 
to  preach — I  said  the  other  day  when — when  I 
thought  you  were  dead,  heart's  heart,  that  she  'd 
played  her  last  card,  laughed  her  last  laugh.  I 
wronged  her,  did  n't  I  ?  She  was  holding  the  last 
one." 

"Two,"  eaid  Denis  Mallory.  "The  King  and 
Queen." 


THE  LAST  WOKD 


A   •   "\HET  were  married  within  a  fortnight. 

"  It  may  seem  heartless  and  disrespectful 

JL  to  Karl,  poor  gentleman,"  said  the  Princess 
Eleanor,  "but  I  was  never  his  wife  in  more  than 
name.  To  mourn  for  him,  to  go  in  black,  to  pre 
tend  sorrow,  would  be  but  an  insult  to  his  memory. 
Let  us  take  our  happiness  while  we  may.  Heaven 
knows  we  have  had  little  of  such." 

So  they  were  married. — It  was  a  double  wedding, 
for  Colonel  von  Altdorf  succeeded  in  persuading 
Miss  Mannering  that  there  was  nothing  unseemly 
in  a  little  haste.  Then  they  went  away,  von  Alt 
dorf  and  his  bride  to  the  Tyrol,  where  he  has  a 
place,  I  believe ;  but  Denis  and  the  Princess  Elea 
nor  quite  to  the  other  side  of  the  world,  to  the 
heart  of  that  strange  brooding  East  where  one  may 
be  altogether  at  rest  and  peace,  may  forget  the 
hurry  and  bustle,  the  strain  and  stress,  of  this 
Western  world  of  ours,  may  forget  old  pains  and 
sorrows,  heal  ancient  wounds  and  put  away  bitter 
memories. 

They  have  a  great  estate,  upon  a  certain  island 
not  unknown  to  travellers,  where  sweet  airs  blow 
always  through  gardens  of  strange,  bright  flowers, 
through  groves  of  spice  trees;  where,  standing 


THE    GARDEN    OF    LIES    331 

upon  a  little  hill,  one  may  see  the  ocean  with  white 
sails  and  an  occasional  trail  of  smoke  along  the  sky. 
And  here  they  live,  happy  in  each  other's  great 
love  as  few  lovers  may  be  happy.  Here  they  are 
building  their  lives  anew  over  the  ashes  of  old  suf 
ferings  ;  and  for  the  world  beyond  they  have  never 
a  sigh,  never  a  wistful  glance. 

Still,  I  think  they  will  some  day  return  to  us,  in 
their  own  good  time,  when  they  are  quite  ready. 
I  cannot  think  that  they  mean  to  bury  themselves 
for  a  lifetime.  Denis  is  too  strong  and  keen,  too 
natural  a  leader  of  men,  to  sit  long  idle,  and  she  is 
too  noble  and  beautiful  a  soul,  too  splendid  a  woman 
to  hide  herself  forever  from  the  world  where  she 
might  take  so  high  a  place. 

So  I  wait,  hearing  from  them  at  intervals,  hoping 
always  that  they  may  emerge  from  their  island 
Paradise,  to  see  their  faces  again,  hold  their  hands, 
feast  my  eyes  once  more  upon  the  loveliest  woman 
I  have  ever  seen,  and  feel  the  grip,  hear  the  cheery 
voice,  of  the  bravest  and  truest  gentleman  in  all 
God's  great  world. 


THE  END 


22981 


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